


Into the Firestorm of Darkness

by von_Winterfeldt



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21896347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/von_Winterfeldt/pseuds/von_Winterfeldt
Summary: As the Millennium Falcon races away from the red planet of Crait, the firestorm of war is spreading across the stars as everything begins to unravel and change...The Rebellion is reborn but weak, while dissension lurks in the heart of the First Order and its new empire...
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story began as an attempt to try and work out to my own satisfaction what would be likely to happen in Episode IX. That film having arrived (oh dear...), I've returned to the ideas I had last been developing in the previous year and will try and feed these out here.  
> The story is still being refined and is not finished but I hope it amuses and entertains someone, even with my poor writing skills.

PROLOGUE

From the darkness cast by nightfall over the white and green mass of the planet Crait, the _Upisilon_ -class shuttle climbed ever higher through the atmosphere into space and toward the giant _Resurgent_ -class Star Destroyer suspended beneath the panorama of stars across the vast darkness of deep space.  
The two pilots carefully guided the shuttle through the turbulent night winds, calm and confident in a way that a few hundred hours on an atmospheric-capable craft would give any competent pilot. They were nervously aware, however, of the only passenger on board, sat a few feet back from the array of controls responding to their gloved hands.  
Unseen, for protocol and good sense dictated that neither should look back, they could hear the slow, deliberate breathing, so distinct from the frenzied, wild emotions displayed just an hour earlier. It was good that he was calm now as the twin SJDS-200a ion engines ran at 100% rated-thrust, propelling the shuttle and its passenger towards the vast bulk of the _Finalizer_ , the sight of which slowly filled the view from the cockpit.  
Indeed, this passenger appeared to be lost in calm contemplation, not even studying the view of the dagger-shaped warships overhead. Yet, his feelings were far from calm, masked only by his resorting to a Jedi meditation technique, used many times before to master both thoughts and feelings but which always skirting dangerously into temptation, into the call of the Light and, this, he feared, would one day prove too much to resist.  
The meditation technique also helped him retain a clear grasp on all he had seen and learned so painfully in the last day. Now, he knew, he could at last face what he knew to be true: that he had been wrong over and over again, taking the wrong decisions, acting too hastily based on assumptions, which had proven to be wrong. Far too easily, he had misinterpreted what he had seen and heard.  
Amidst the vast splendour of the assembly bay, the shuttle decelerated, its crew pivoting the craft with practiced ease and settled it down to land as the battalion of honour snapped to attention. Silently, walking down the ramp, he knew that he was on his own in the midst of a vast war machine he was not ready to lead.  
*  
Shortly after the first shuttle departed Crait, a second shuttle made the climb from out of the atmosphere. Two companies of stormtroopers snapped to attention as the slim occupant, hands clasped behind his back, thoughts hidden behind cold blue eyes, stepped from the shuttle’s ramp to be greeted by Captain Opann.  
“Sir, it’s a pleasure to welcome you back on board.”  
Nodding to his aide, General Hux observed the other _Upisilon_ -class shuttle and, for a split second, his cold eyes flashed dangerously. “Where is the Supreme Leader?” he asked one of the junior officers.  
Knowing the General’s lethal reputation, in an obedient tone, the officer replied, “The Supreme Leader is being prepared–”  
In front of the junior officer, Hux span on his heels, eyes razor-sharp and terrible from the sudden anger, filling his voice as he barked, “ _PREPARED? WHAT_ could the _SUPREME LEADER NEED PREPARING FOR?!_ ”  
Trembling now, the reply came, “For burial, General!”  
“Burial?” Hux repeated in a quiet confused voice before asking, quite amused by the possibility his mind now entertained, “Surely, the stupid b…” and stopped. No, he thought, the stupid…Ren would not remove himself so easily. “Of course,” he said, smoothly concealing his embarrassment beneath an implicit threat to the young man.  
“Where,” he began again, enunciating each word as though the answer might give could prove to be the officer’s last, “is the _current_ Supreme Leader?”  
*  
Seeing the black-clad figure striding down the corridor towards him, FN-9768 stiffened and saluted even as the Supreme Leader did not deign to acknowledge either of the two stormtroopers on guard outside his quarters. Neither FN-9768, nor his comrade, resented being ignored, even if they had not been long since trained out of expectations of reciprocity between themselves and superiors.  
Behind either of the armoured masks, cold sweat stung their eyes as the two stormtroopers endured the black wave-like aura that had slammed into them both as the Supreme Leader has passed between them. Sometimes, they were thankful for the long, hard years of training that had made them faithful instruments of the Order.  
*  
Sometimes, the Force was kind.  
Sat within the eight-walled darkness of his chambers, Kylo gazed once more upon the deformed mask of Darth Vader. He knew that the Light was a tool to be used, to keep a Knight of Ren steady in his mastery of the Darkness, controlling and directing his fury to its proper purpose.  
“And yet, Grandfather, I find myself caught in the binds of a paradox…a paradox which I only now come to wonder if you felt as well?” He rose and turned about the chamber, coming to look back again into his Grandfather’s remains, the words on his tongue hesitant to come.  
Breaking off, he clenched his gloved fists tightly, fighting against the dangerous storm of feelings, beating against his heart with accusations of cowardice, calling him a fool for wanting everything, for being tricked into… His throat constricted as his mind’s eye faced the moment…that single moment when everything had been clear…  
“No”, he spoke solemnly into the empty silence, staring away from his Grandfather’s mask into a point somewhere beyond the perception of ordinary sight. “That moment was true. I made the right decision. I would have died otherwise…one way or another.”  
Suddenly, he was staring back at the mask, his eyes filled with the terror of intuitive realisation. “What made you choose? Between life and death? Between your master and…” and his words trailed off into silence, too painful was the final word to speak.  
It had made a fool of him and…it had brought him to the pinnacle of power. The Force was kind, he reflected. It had brought him here and given him a gift of knowledge, freedom from servitude and… _a second chance_.  
Kylo Ren knew he was frightened. A second chance _but for what?_  
He looked back, his eyes fearful, and, as if prompted by the sight of the ashen mask, long-since twisted in an obscene form in its own funeral pyre, thoughts of his own, seemingly routed only a day or so before, flashed across his sight.  
“I said that I would finish what you started, Grandfather. Yet, now I am the master, through the grace of the Force.” He swallowed, trembling slightly in the chill of the chambers, “When the time came, I did not hesitate. Dark and Light spoke in unison and,” he gazed deeply back into the empty eye sockets, “I am here now.”  
He wanted to be angry, to feel the raw fury stoke his purpose and give him the strength to cut through sentiment and fear, to be loosed from the knotted bind in which ordinary mortals found themselves caught unawares.  
“The Force wants me to be here, Grandfather. Dark and Light have brought me here for a purpose and now,” he paused, reaching out to the Force, seeking guidance and sensing the very immensity of the great warship in which he was now stood, imbued with the feeling of overarching purpose to which the Order was dedicated.  
“And now,” he concluded, frightened of this feeling of unboundedness, for once now his own master and the master of countless others, “I am alone and I have to find a way through…because no one else can do it.”


	2. Aboard the Millennium Falcon

# CHAPTER 1

_She had been at peace earlier_.

Leia was concerned. Earlier, Rey had been settled – like a Jedi, she’d thought, remembering her brother at his best – now, the girl sat in the lounge seats of the Falcon, her dejected gaze fixed upon the two broken halves of the Skywalker lightsaber.

Rey looked up and returned the proffered smile, a delicate one, Leia thought. Rey must have sensed her concern, saying to Leia “I’m okay,” and trying to hide the crack in her voice.

“So,” Leia began, easing into the seat next to the young Jedi and asked in her best maternal manner, “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

Many years spent in politics had given Leia a deep knowledge of the language of the eyes and the body, all sharpened with the Skywalker strength in the Force that allowed Leia to sense the shape and colour of another’s thoughts. Rey, she observed, was weary and troubled – and if Leia did not know better, she had a hunch about what or who was the trouble.

Shrugging, her eyes blank and staring into distant space, Rey murmured, “Where do I begin?”

Without realising, Leia was inwardly settling into a familiar routine of debriefing a field agent. In a sense, as remarkable as this young woman was – defeating Kylo Ren, finding her brother and returning just in time with Chewbacca in the _Falcon_ , Rey was a field agent, so Leia first laid an old hand over a young one and in a firm but compassionate voice, told Rey “Start when you left D’Qar.”

So, in a quiet voice, Rey started with the jump from D’Qar, the many steps into the heights of the sacred island and her first sight of the legendary Luke Skywalker.

“I-I don’t know what I expected. A legend, I suppose – that’s what Luke called himself,” smiling from a corner of her mouth in a way that Leia suspected she would come to like. “He said that about himself. He’d become a legend in the Galaxy and that he came to believe it too. That’s where he said it went wrong.”

“What went wrong?” Leia asked, seeming to peer closely at Rey, who did not answer at first. When she did, she was circumspect.

“The Jedi.”

A cold sensation of dread crept up Leia’s spine as she pressed a reluctant Rey for more.

“Luke… Luke had lost his faith when I met him – in the Jedi Order – I did not understand. He told me about their failure, about Darth Sidious and their end. I think I understand now. I think _he_ understands.”

Leia had leaned back, looking across at a group of mechanics carefully evicting porgs from a wiring conduit. She too understood now. It was not just guilt at failing her and her son. It was that her son – her own son – had broken Luke’s heart. It all made sense now – the search for the first temple: her brother had been searching for answers. Had he found them?

“Nothing went as expected,” Rey murmured, speaking down into the two broken parts of the lightsaber cradled in her hands. “I asked for his help and he wouldn’t even consider helping the Resistance.” She recalled and spoke Luke’s words, bitter and cynical though she had thought them at the time. “ _You think what? I’m gonna walk out with a laser sword and face down the whole First Order?_ ”

Leia sighed and spoke. “That’s what he did in the end. Walked out and faced them all.” Rey looked up, her light brown eyes probing the general, seeking answers. “He told me that he couldn’t save him but also that no one is truly gone.” Leia ended her recollection by adding “He brought us time. Just enough time to escape.”

Pulling her mind away from the recent past, she looked back at Rey, warming to the girl’s gentle smile. “What else happened? You were telling me your story.” Then the smile faded and Leia glimpsed the haunted expression in Rey’s eyes as she remembered something…something Rey was hiding from her.

Slowly, Rey told about traipsing after Luke, waiting for him to give in first, then about the tree and the books – Leia thought she sensed a hint, something reluctant to come out, even as the realisation slowly dawned on her… _The Jedi texts? Luke had found them! He’d talked for many years about his conviction that they still existed!_

Rey must have sensed her excitement because she gave an involuntary start and glared at Leia, who took the hint and let Rey continue. “He showed me the Force, the Light and Dark as two parts of the whole, each feeding the other…” Again, Leia sensed something being hidden, concealed deep down and…

“There’s more, Leia… but I can’t tell you – yet. It’s too dangerous here,” Rey said, speaking in a faltering way. “I got back to Crait just in time.”

“The binary beacon worked,” Leia said, smiling at Rey. Suddenly, her manner was grave. “Is… _it_ …really that dangerous that you can’t tell me now? Some sort of secret weapon of the enemy? Or did you learn something through the Force?” She hissed as she added, “ _The Knights of Ren?_ ”

Rey just slowly shook her head, her thoughts hardening to Leia’s touch. “Later. Not here,” and looked about the room.

“Too many eyes and ears here.”

*

Rubbing the fatigue from his eyes, Poe responded to Chewbacca’s prompting, “I see it.” After two hours in hyperspace, ahead of the Falcon’s cockpit, lay the blue and white of Syned, an icy trade post on the Sanrafsix Corridor. “A quick stop there, we pick up supplies and then to the Outer Rim.”

The cockpit door opened behind them and, turning in his seat, Poe grinned at the short figure of Lieutenant Kaydel Ko Connix.

“Well,” he said, flashing her a roguish grin. “Looks like we’ve made it.”

Caught again off-guard by her Commander, Kaydel blushed, smiled and then laughed.

“Fresh air will be welcome. It could get rather close here, all cooped up…” she stopped, blushing again as Poe winked and turned back to the controls. He froze.

They all froze.

Ahead was that familiar and dreaded shape of an _Imperial_ Star Destroyer.

*

It has been, he conceded, pure chance but as he studied the projected trajectories of the two ships highlighted on the holographic tactical display, Admiral Langrim Herian of the First Order Navy was reminded of how even the simplest plans in war were prey to the will of the Gods.

The absurdly young lieutenant commanding the sensor arrays contrived to glance at his tall, elegant figure immaculately dressed in charcoal grey compared with her light grey and felt a thrill run though her as the Admiral straightened, gave a curt nod and left the crew pit. Lt Bafili Saar let her duty remain neglected for…. just a few more seconds, gazing up after him… and ran into the stern eyes of the Fleet Captain.

Suddenly, the sensor display held a great deal of fascination and, but for a swift warning glare directed at the crewmen of the watch subordinated to her command, there could well have been sniggering at her reaction.

Above the now scarlet Lt Saar, the Fleet Captain followed the Admiral towards the bridge’s main viewports. Her eyes as well dwelt too long on the Admiral’s tall figure and the way he clasped those strong hands behind his back… _Stop it, Gabia, you are a professional – act like it._

Noticing his blonde companion was now stood the correct and respectful distance from his left, the Admiral did not move, merely asking, “What is our status?” His polite question had not been addressed to the Fleet Captain but to another, a middle-aged man, also wearing captain’s insignia.

Captain Seithe Antilles, officer commanding of the Star Destroyer _Invincible_ , knew the Admiral from two previous campaigns together out in the Unknown Regions and they shared a love for much the First Order had forgotten. “The _Invincible_ is fully at your command, Admiral.” They had spoken much the same way, representing here the manners, tone and almost forgotten protocol of the Imperial Navy.

“Set course to intercept,” came the order, delivered in those same clipped tones of the old Naval Academy, “Deploy TIE squadrons.”

 _Out in the middle of nowhere, hunting down fleeing Rebels,_ Captain Antilles reflected. _It is as if the shame of the last thirty years has at last been erased!_

The Admiral and Fleet Captain exchanged a significant look and it was Gabia Hörn’s turn to blush a little.

“I recall, Captain,” he began, speaking in that smooth manner which came with high birth and long service, “that an ancestor of mine was reputed to have said something apt in just such a situation as this.”

Captain Hörn cleared her throat. Despite her relative youth, more than fifteen years his junior, she had built up an impressive record, rising last month to become Fleet Captain just past her 31st birthday.

“Is that so?” she asked, choosing in the relatively privacy of the command deck to inflect her words a little dangerously.

The Admiral, catching his Fleet Captain’s meaning, flashed a quick grin and she noted how his sharp blue eyes contrasted with the steel grey of his hair.

“Our first catch of the day.”

*

Aboard the _Falcon_ , word had quickly spread that there was trouble and the crew and passengers both immediately felt the thrust from the engine banks as the inertial dampeners took a fraction of a second to catch up with the massive increase in G-Forces while the _Falcon_ rolled upward into a split-S and climbed away for space.

Chewbacca roared a warning.

“I know!” Poe shouted, “I saw them!”

“Saw what?” shouted Kaydel from behind the pilot’s seat.

“TIEs coming in and we’re not out of the planetary shadow,” Poe said, his voice doubtful, “I just hope they haven’t been upgraded.”

He slapped at various controls, something went bang in the control circuits between Chewbacca and himself and the Wookie swore. “Alright!” he shouted before turning around to Kaydel.

“Connix! Do as Chewie says – get Rey!”

*

The TIEs had indeed been upgraded and could be seen by the gun crews on either side, leaning into their etheric rudders before sweeping out at maximum speed into a shallow, blossoming “X” formation.

The _Millennium Falcon_ raced ahead of them but behind both the fleeing freighter and the pursuing starfighters, the _Imperial_ Star Destroyer, propelled by her huge engines, cut a swift path through local space. Out here, the mass of the Star Destroyer gave it an advantage against the smaller vessel, though without her recently modernised engines, the battleship would not have entertained a hope to win this race.

As it was, the TIEs attacked, being ordered to shoot from long-range to disrupt the _Falcon_ ’s flight-path. Poe swore viciously, was forced to bank and twist into a series of barrel rolls in order to keep the _Falcon_ from being destroyed as the first green laser bolts caused the ship to shudder with a familiar ringing flash that vibrated throughout the hull.

As he came out of a climbing turn, rolling to starboard as he did so, Rey ran through the doorway, took one look at the smoke and swore. “ _Fuck!_ ”

This was not good.

Taking Chewie’s place, Rey wrenched off the access panel to the co-pilot controls, felt inside and to the left, swore again as she caught a mild electrical shock and shouted at Poe, “What the _FUCK_ did you do?”

Chewie roared the answer out, gripping the doorway as the _Falcon_ rolled to port, dipped her nose into a diving turn, all the while able to hear Finn swearing over the intercom at the TIEs who would not come into effective range of the quad batteries. _Kid knows how to curse!_

 _Ok_ , she thought, _rudder controls – hyperdrive, **please** not the hyperdrive – sublight – aha!_ She found the overloaded part, gritted her teeth and…pulled. A small, tubular length of metal came away in her grip and she flung it away with a cry of “OW!” from the expected mild electrical shock.

Hurriedly, Rey searched in the box of spares taped underneath the control casing. _Please say that Han left a spare!_

*

Captain Hörn studied the tac-display with increasing incomprehension. “They’re flying in a straight line?” Touching a button, she called up the grav-zones as the Admiral joined her. “Can’t be trying to make a hyperspace jump – they’d cripple their hyperdrive motivator this close to the planetary shadow.”

“TIE damage?” suggested the Admiral, his hands calmly clasped behind his back. Directing his voice to Captain Antilles, “Prepare tractor beams, Captain” he ordered. Not needing to look, he could sense that the captain of the _Invincible_ and the bridge-crew were confident and excited. _Too little combat experience – yet_ , he thought. The rest would come soon enough.

*

Thankful that there was _one_ spare for the buffer circuit, Rey pushed the tube into place and with a tap from her hand, she completed the connection, received a mild jolt and felt the delight and relief from Poe, who had noticed the stern quarter shields flashing red.

Flashing her a relieved grin, the Commander saw the grav-display warning flash from red to green, reached for the hyperdrive levers…and the _Falcon_ shuddered into a port spiralling turn.

Puzzled, Rey scanned the instruments and the various auxiliary systems, trying to find the fault. Then she sensed from Poe that this time, it was not a result of yet another fault in the aging _Falcon_.

 _Oh no. They’ve got us_.


	3. Strange Encounters

# CHAPTER 2

At the word of command, the TIE fighters executed their combat drills to disengage from the target, although the experienced eyes of the Admiral detected a little hesitancy in these manoeuvres. Several had been hit by the target’s two defensive batteries, the battle damage evident in the small course-corrections made by the pilots fighting damaged systems but none had been disabled.

 _Putting shields on the TIEs has paid off repeatedly_ , he reflected, noting with satisfaction how the spiralling path of the _Falcon_ tightened, as more tractor beams were able to snare and pull the resisting ship towards the _Invincible_ ’s hangar bay.

Stepping over to the comm-officer’s station, Admiral Herian took his place, leaned forward to activate the comm-channel and hailed the _Falcon_. “ _Twice-Lucky_ , this is the First Order ship _Invincible_ , please stand down and prepare to be boarded. This is a routine inspection and I am a little _hurt_ that your crew felt afraid of our ship. That is all,” he finished, closing the comm-channel and noting, with secret amusement, the subtle changes in Captain Hörn’s posture indicating an internal struggle between wanting to ask _why_ and knowing that protocol dictated remaining silent.

Indeed, Captain Hörn was thinking that since the tac-scan had matched the freighter’s engine-ID against the “Mett’s Turn”, known to be an freighter along operating at irregular intervals along several small star-lanes in the Mid and Outer-Rim of the Galaxy, was the ID a ruse? _Smugglers? Dissidents or even rebels?_

“Are you coming, Captain?” he asked her, “One never knows _whom_ one might meet in space.”

There had been a teasing inflection in his voice, one she had come to know well in their time together and the Fleet Captain forced herself to resist the temptation to smile at him.

Obedience came to her aid. “Of course, Admiral,” came her cool reply.

*

Of all those present on the _Millennium Falcon_ , only Leia and Poe had before been aboard one of the Imperial Star Destroyers. Aging vessels, most had been lost or scrapped long ago but for all their long years were still potent warships and those of the First Order had mostly received extensive upgrades. The _Invincible_ was one such.

From behind Poe and Chewie, Leia cautiously peered out from the cockpit to make a study of the hanger bay. Aside from the variations in uniform, the scene could have been one she had last seen thirty-four years ago, albeit on a much smaller scale.

 _There!_ The occupants of the cockpit could make out, just beyond the approaching boarding party of stormtroopers, the grey uniforms of two senior officers. They were following close the stormtroopers...

“We had better all hide. We’re too well known…” she said, the smile on her lips tinged with nostalgia, and lead the way to the concealed smuggling holds in the hallway.

*

The stormtroopers watched from their positions as the ramp was lowered, covering the entrance from different angles before two pairs of troopers rushed forwards up the ramp before halting to peer around the entrance hole. Inside they could observe a corridor curving away to their right.

With a nod from the leader of each pair, two stormtroopers moved in opposite directions, joined by the rest of their squads.

Leaning in close to the Admiral, Captain Hörn whispered a question. “Smugglers or rebels?”

“We shall see,” the Admiral murmured in reply. Speaking louder now, he added “I expect the occupants will turn out to be natives of this part of the Galaxy.”

The stormtrooper sergeant marched stiffly down the ramp, his blaster rifle at the ready and snapped off a parade-ground salute.

Admiral Herian gave the sergeant the faintest of acknowledgements. “Report, Sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.”

There were four prisoners taken on board the _Twice Lucky_ : all human.

“Very well, Sergeant. They are disarmed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then we will proceed on board and question them ourselves. You and your men will wait out here. I will call for you,” he indicated the tiny button-like comm-link in his collar, “if required.”

The salute was a little slow in coming. _He doesn’t like it_ , thought Captain Hörn. _Neither do I_.

They followed the sergeant’s directions and turning left into the rear of the ship, entered what had once been a cargo hold but had clearly been converted in a small living quarters, in which, watched by four stormtroopers were sat the prisoners.

The Admiral surveyed the four. One was a red headed female with a tall, athletic build, passively watching the two newcomers. The second a non-descript male wearing a beard clearly too large for him. The third, the female in the bunk, was clearly injured, quite possibly seriously and the only prisoner not cuffed by the storm troopers. The last was a tall, dark male…with a very familiar air about him…

At a nod from the Admiral, Captain Hörn dismissed the stormtroopers and, when the clatter of armoured boots had receeded, took a single step towards the last prisoner.

“FN-2187?”

The words had not been spoken with the customary malice of a First Order officer but, nonetheless, an involuntary flinch ran through the group of prisoners, however the tall male kept his cool, shaking his head and saying, “Nope. My name’s Finn, I’m…”

Admiral Herian interrupted him, “I know perfectly well who you are,” he said, his voice cool and hard, and drew his service pistol.

Alarmed now, the tall man glanced around him at the others. The Captain did not fail to miss his eye lingering on the injured girl, even as her combat instincts pulled her back, away from the group, wondering what in the stars her admiral was playing at…

The red-head had subtly changed her stance, causing Captain Hörn to rest a hand on her blaster as she came to a halt only a couple of feet away from the Admiral, who was calmly fixing a long black attachment to his blaster’s barrel. Footsteps could be heard behind them and Hörn wondered if the approaching person was friendly…or her death…

Finn looked across to Adira Brodi, fixing his eyes onto hers before looking down meaningfully at the crate.

She followed his eyes and saw the crate…the almost empty crate before looking up, gauging the distance to the two First Order officers… She swallowed involuntarily at the sight of a third officer, his clean white uniform signifying their deaths.

Finn, sensing her fear, looked across and felt his heart stop.

Into the room, strode a colonel of the Security Bureau, a blaster pistol in one hand and datapad in the other, together with a triumphant and malevolent smirk across his dark face.

Colonel Bathina strode straight past both of the senior officers without bothering to acknowledge either of them.

“Rebels!” he laughed, his whole being suffused with a delighted cruelty. “How I will enjoy each interrogation and death!” and, raising the datapad in his left-hand, started to scan their faces, all his attention focused upon the rapid blur of images as the datapad connected with the ship’s security databases, searching to match faces to known enemies and traitors of the First Order.

This single-minded focus had been the prime drive behind Colonel Bathina’s rise through the ranks of the Security Bureau. Now it was the cause of his death.

Focused on the prisoners and the coalescing images on his datapad, he did not see the Admiral’s blaster pistol silently point to the back of his head. Nor did he hear the shot, which penetrated the back of his skull before exploding to take of the back of the head and end his life.

The body hit the floor. Finn and Adira could not tell who was more astonished – themselves or the First Order Captain – as the Admiral calmly unscrewed the suppressor from the blaster barrel before replacing his weapon in its holster.

“We are free to act as we wish now,” they heard the Admiral speak to the Captain, whose expression combined horror at the blood and brains which were now splattered across the deck with surprise at what had just taken place. A whispered conversation was now taking place between the two officers, while Adira leaned a little toward Finn, whispered “ _What now?_ ”

Finn looked down at the crate, over at the body and saw the code-cylinders half tumbled out from the dead man’s breast pocket. If he could get to those three cylinders, find the right one to unlock his cuffs _and_ get the blaster pistol… He looked back at the two officers who were deep in what seemed to be a deep and passionate disagreement…maybe, three seconds would be enough…

Tensing his muscles, trusting that Adira would be quick enough to follow his movements, Finn set his jaw tight and…saw Rey pointing a blaster rifle from the corridor. She was either about to shout or shoot but the Admiral had also seen her leap out of the smuggling compartment and had set a finger to his lips and gestured for Rey to come further into the room.

*

Hiding had been hard enough, knowing that her friends were taking the big risk in pretending to civilians in the face of the First Order. She’d sensed Finn’s anxiety and his protectiveness of the injured girl in the bunk and had been trying to unravel her feelings about Finn when all four of them had suddenly become extremely fearful. Behind her, she sensed that Leia had picked the fear and Rey realised the fear was strongest in and centred on Finn.

Thinking fast, Rey found one of the blaster rifles, still harbouring the red salt dust from Crait, checked the safety and its charge-level and was about to jump up when Leia’s hand settled upon her shoulder. Wordlessly, Rey understood. A third person was coming in, someone whose mind was rich with malice – a malice missing from the other two…

_No…_

Calming herself, Rey reached out with the Force and picked up a dissonant note from one of the two officers, which suddenly formed itself into a sharp point and – a very brief blast was heard – Rey sensed a fleeting split-second shock of pain… and the third person was dead. _Finn!_

Head spinning, Rey fought off Leia’s imploring urges to stay cool, slid the compartment cover back and using the Force to enhance and guide her muscles, leapt up out of the smuggling compartment and was about to shout when the male, grey-haired officer placed his finger against his lip and gestured for her to come closer.

Confused, Rey slowly stepped towards the two officers, keeping her rifle trained on them, while trying not to gag at the sight of the dead man, whose white uniform was now disfigured with gore before feeling a flood of relief that Finn and the others were unharmed.

“Keep your voice down,” the male officer said in a quiet voice of one who was used to obedience. “This could still end badly for us all.”


	4. Hidden Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is longer than the other two, so I hope you all enjoy it! :)  
> (slightly revised, apologies for delay in other chapters - they are coming!)

# CHAPTER 3

As the holographic symbol winked out of existence, Captain Hörn fought down the fear she had been suppressing ever since the ship she knew now as the _Millennium Falcon_ had departed from the _Invincible_ ’s hanger bay. 

She felt alone here, though to be alone was nothing new for an officer in the First Order, sensing rather than seeing the eyes of the bridge crew upon her.

_Calm yourself, Gabia. They suspect nothing._

A momentary mood of resentment crept up on her and she thought of the Admiral, who, by now, would be exercising in his personal quarters… The mental image drifted to thinking of his strong arms…and not for the last time, she wondered to herself, _Why am I taking such risks?_

Aboard that same vessel, now that she could feel the vibrations of the Isu-Sim hyperdrive propelling the _Falcon_ through hyperspace towards its rated 0.5 past lightspeed, Rey, in an unconscious affinity with the First Order Fleet Captain, wanted answers as well… _answers to too many bloody questions_ , she reminded herself, brushed her hair back behind her eyes and went aft to seek out _his mother_ …

She found Leia at the Dejerik table, seated alone and seemingly lost deep in thought and, taking a second to simply look at her, Rey could sense the grave, pensive air that clung to the old woman’s thoughts.

At that look, Leia looked up, smiled and waved Rey closer and as Rey approached, Leia gave her a tired smile, “You’ll get used to living with the Force – what can I do for you?”

“Can I ask what you talked about?” Rey asked.

There was a long hesitation before Leia replied. “Politics, mainly,” she said, “I did wonder if those two were going to defect.”

“Would that have been possible?”

“It would be difficult. I gather from Finn that she’s a Fleet Captain. Did you realise _he_ is an admiral?”

Rey shook her head. “What’s the difference?” she asked.

“Now, Rey! How could you not know…” she started to exclaim but then seeing Rey’s genuine bemusement, Leia smiled and explained. “A captain commands a ship. She’s _his_ captain. They must be on their way to join a squadron, where she will command the flagship.”

“Oh,” Rey replied offhandedly, trying and failing to hide her embarrassment for being so innocent, “so, she’s – so they’re both important?”

Leia nodded before shrugging and chuckling quietly to herself. When Rey asked what was funny, she sighed at looked up at the green-clad young girl. “I had a feeling they were but I was _certain_ when I saw _how_ she looked at him when she thought I wasn’t watching…” before mysteriously adding “I wonder…” to her thoughts.

“Wonder what?” Rey asked, pressing for an explanation and frowning as she tried to make sense of what she could feel of Leia’s thoughts.

“Why he let us go?” she answered before an old fear seized her and Leia flicked open the intercom to the cockpit. “Chewie!” A guttural voice answered. “Alter course for the nearest planet with an atmosphere and check the _Falcon_ for any little _gifts_ from the First Order. Yes. Thank you.”

“ _Gifts_ ” Rey asked, raising her eyebrows in expectation.

Leia stood up, groaning a little and as she walked to the bunk, told Rey that “When Luke and Han rescued me from the Death Star, Vader had put a homing beacon on board the _Falcon_.” She lay down and let out another low groan before adding, a twickle in her eyes, “We lead Tarkin straight to Yavin... and I’m feeling my age…where was I?”

“Yavin!” Rey prompted, her brown eyes sparkling with the excitement of listening to a tale of the legendary past from someone who had actually lived through those times.

“Ah yes. Even then, I suspected Tarkin would have pulled something like that. It was too easy… and too like him.”

“What was too easy?” Rey asked, pressing for more as she crouched by Leia’s bunk.

Her voice was distant, wandering now in the paths of memories from those days. “Oh, our escape. It nearly destroyed us…if it hadn’t been for Luke and Han.” _Had it really been so long ago? Thirty or more years?_ Sadness threatened to engulf her at the thought of all those years now lost and slowly Leia let herself be drawn back to the present to the brown-eyed girl squatting by the bunk, her enchanted face willing Leia to tell more.

Instead, Leia asked the question, which was foremost in her mind.

“How old are you, Rey?”

The question set off in the girl a sudden, acute feeling of embarrassment and Rey looked away into the room as she confessed that she thought she _might_ be nineteen. “I tried to keep count of the days but the numbers grew and I forgot much…”

Leia patted the hand resting on the edge of the bunk, “So, you’re a little older than I was – maybe more sensible too…”

Rey did not reply, seemingly sunk into an inexplicable melancholy, so to raise the girl’s spirits, Leia grasped the girl’s slender fingers and told her “Things have a way of working out for the best. We led the Death Star to Yavin – _we were all so close to death_ – _just_ as with Starkiller but because of _Luke_ and _Han_ , it was destroyed and we were able to defeat the Empire. Don’t lose hope!” Stroking Rey’s cheek, she tried again, saying, “Just because we cannot see the sun, does not mean we should not stop believing in the light…”

When Rey had left, Leia tried to focus her memory, drawing on the Force to bring the vague pictures she had seen in Rey’s mind into conscious sight and flinched when she saw her son in front of her, sat in a room lit with dull electric-blue light but _he_ was illuminated by _firelight_ …

The stolen memory retreated from recall but she recalled _what_ she had seen… _What is Rey hiding from us? What is so dangerous that it cannot be said aloud?_

Sleep came slowly but sleep was always slow to come these days. She missed Han…

*

_Why is it that hard-ass females are always **blonde**?_

“No,” Finn explained again, exasperated with Lt Connix’s line of questioning, “I _don’t know_ why we were intercepted, unless the First Order is tracking us - like last time – through hyperspace –”

“– And last time, we were followed,” Connix interrupting him, speaking her clear, firm voice. “This time, they were waiting for us! _And_ …” her voice rose, forestalling another protest from the ex-stormtrooper, “we were intercepted by possible defectors.”

Finn squirmed, pinned down under those hard brown eyes.

“Can you think of why they helped us? Is there dissension in the First Order? Allies we can reach out to?”

When Finn said nothing, she flung at him, “Come on! _You left!_ There _must_ be others like you!”

“ _Yes, I left!_ ” he hissed at Connix.

Looking meaningfully at Poe, whose tired face reminded Finn of that first fateful meeting on Jakku, “I left because… I chose to. We’re not raised to think for ourselves and we don’t trust the officers – they’d sell your hide for promotion and forget you ever existed!”

He paused, holding his hands tightly together before continuing.

“Anyone who deviates from training, gets reprogrammed – or killed.” Finn said, emphasising the finality by chopping the air with his hands. “The First Order is held together by _fear_ – fear of _failure_ , _death_ or _shame_. We lived our whole lives in our regiments, worshipping the heroes of the Empire and hating the trai – the Republic.”

He stared hard at Connix, returning her hard glare. “Can you imagine?” he said to her, trying to reach out to the humanity he thought he could sense there. “All the world you have ever known is in the ship until you’re sent out on a mission, when all you see is chaos and people trying to kill you.”

Poe squatted down in front of the ex-stormtrooper, seeking the way to get Finn to move past his previous life. “Finn… Buddy,” he urged him, “there _must_ be others who hate the First Order – who just don’t want to be killers. In an organisation, so big…” he continued but stopped as a thought struck him and he looked at Kaydel. A wide grin started to spread across his face.

Kaydel caught the meaning, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as she started to object…

“Oh no… _No no no!_ ” she said quickly, frantically wagging a finger at Poe and backing out of the room…followed by Poe, leaving a confused Finn.

*

Against her cheek, his chest rose and fell in his sleep, her nostrils filled with his…with _their_ scent and Gabia felt his arm tighten around her bare shoulders. At times like this, the warm, rosy glow which filled her heart paid for every risk they took to be together…like this.

He was warm and smelt…good. Not just a good man, she thought but _right_ as if this was what a man should be. She looked up at his sleeping face, the close-cropped grey hair offset by the gentleness only she saw in these secret hours.

A memory of this strange day replayed itself in her mind.

 _Rey_.

That was what they had called her. Since she and the Admiral had walked off the _Millennium Falcon_ , a thousand possibilities and questions besieged her but this one kept coming back, almost demanding to be answered.

She shifted against Langrim’s side, making herself more comfortable in _their_ bed and tried not to think about the girl and her name. The answer would come in good time…lots of things to do on the morning watch.

Slowly sinking into the darkness of sleep, Gabia let out a slow, happy sigh and as her mind feel away into sleep, she was caught up in reminiscing on his pursuit of her, when she’d been but a junior officer, calling her into private meetings, fixing appointments, all so she could act as his aide – and she remembered how he had seized hold on her one late evening and…

 _Not that I was unwilling_ , she mused, remembering how eagerly she’d responded that night – that first night of her life. Afterwards, she was frequently appointed under his command on hard and dangerous missions, tutoring her in the exercise of military command, learning from him how to voice dissent without accusation of disloyalty and shielding her from the likes of Hux, who might sense a rival, until she was back in his service and his bed again.

Gabia breathed him in again, let out a contented sigh and slipped into a deep sleep.

It was shortly after they’d risen for the morning watch, the answer came to her, unbidden for she had not been thinking of the girl. There was a rumour…yes – just a rumour but it might be true – that the _new_ Supreme Leader had gone charging off after a girl – it was said to be quite out of character as he was thought to be… _uninterested_ in _that_ sort of thing.

Perhaps…

“Yes…” she said, not realising she had spoken aloud, “it was just after…”

“After what?”

Gabia glanced up to see her lover staring at her, a faint light of suspicion showing in his eyes. Quickly, she explained by asking a question, “Wasn’t there a story that R – _the Supreme Leader_ – was seen with a girl on the _Supremacy_?” With relief, Gabia saw how the unaccustomed suspicion was replaced with concentration as the Admiral thought through the facts and implications of her question.

Finally, he asked a question of his own.

“What girl?”

*

Most of the party had gone ashore on in Calimondretta to buy supplies and get some planet-side time – Poe had warned this would be the last planetary-leave any of them would get for some time.

The _Falcon_ was tucked into a covered landing bay, where a thick blast-shield type door kept out the near-gale force winds that permanently buffeted the city and kept its inhabitants either indoors or in the underground markets and entertainment districts that made life possible on this frozen rock.

Kaydel ko Connix spotted the green-clad figure standing against the railing that ran along the upper gantry of the marketplace, seemingly oblivious to the noise and bustle below her. In a few seconds, Kaydel had bounded up the spiralling staircase to the gantry and made her way over.

Rey sensed someone approaching, their… _her_ , she decided, mind was friendly but needed something…

“Hi!” said the blonde, giving Rey a big smile and a wave, which Rey _knew_ was somewhat forced and contrary to her usual nature, and introduced herself as Lt Connix “but you can call me, Kaydel – after all, you did save us all out there!”

“Thanks”, Rey replied, blushing and Kaydel found herself warming to the Jedi, surprised to find someone as shy as she was herself.

Gripping the railing, she let out a long, low breath. “What are you looking at?” Outside the snow was being blown and whipped into swirling patterns by the wind and Kaydel looked again at the brunette, saw the look of wonder on the girl’s face and smiled. “The snow, huh?”

“I grew up on a desert planet. Until a week ago, I’d never seen snow…or green.”

Kaydel asked, “When did you see snow?”

“On the First Order base.” She sensed the other woman’s sudden awkwardness and heard the words, spoken inside her head, _Starkiller_. Quickly, she reached across with her left, touching Kaydel on her right hand. “I didn’t know where it was until…” she swallowed, forcing down the resurgence of pain, “afterwards.”

“And green?” Kaydel asked, trying to work up towards the real reason she’d _needed_ to talk to the Jedi. “When did you see green?” she asked with a grin.

“Takodana,” Rey replied, smiling to herself at the memory of the overwhelming verdancy as the _Falcon_ had broken through the cloud layer and headed towards Maz’s castle. More memories came back, still fresh and powerful and she resisted the sudden need to cry.

“Anyway,” Kaydel said, bumping shoulders with Rey, “thank you.”

“What for?” replied Rey, still recovering from the rush of memory.

“Crait. Being there for us.”

Rey smiled back. “Did you need to ask me something else?”

The blonde sighed, bit her lip and nodded. “Those two First Order officers,” she said, speaking in a low voice, wary of being overheard, “what did you think of them?”

It took Rey a while to focus her thoughts. Then she replied, “I don’t know… I couldn’t pick up a lot from him, though I got more from her.”

“We’re trying to work out if they could be defectors,” her companion said, “Or if, like Finn, there could be more like them…”

Hesitating, Rey decided to reveal something she’d picked up after their escape. Their _second_ escape. “Leia thinks _he’s_ an Imperial, not First Order.” Leia hadn’t said this to her but when Rey had been thinking, the fragments of Leia’s thoughts that she’d ‘read’ had come together out here. _Is this another power of the Force_? she wondered.

Kaydel was nodding to herself. “Yeah, that would fit. He’s old enough to have been a junior officer. That solves my problem.”

“What problem?” Rey asked.

Kaydel had turned around to lean against the railing to gaze out across the heaving market place and streets below. The expression on her face was that of someone who has had to face a possibly insoluble problem and discovered the problem was, in fact, insoluble.

“We’re trying to work out if we can get a HUMINT programme running. Your friend thinks it’s a waste of time trying to turn the officers. Calls them _fucking savages_ …or words to that effect.”

Rey, sensing a darker undercurrent to the lieutenant’s thoughts, asked a question, which afterwards turned out to be a very perceptive.

“What’s making you upset about all this?”

The blonde made a face, then replied in a way which managed to convey frustration, fear and annoyance all at once. “Poe wants me to contact my father – he thinks my family had contacts with the First Order – contacts we can exploit.” She turned back around to lean forward against the railing. “But if our best hopes are the ex-Imperials in the First Order, we can fucking well forget it. Those _fascists_ won’t want to restore the Republic…”

She looked up at Rey, paused and realised… “Oh shit… you too?”

Rey’s open look of confusion was enough to set Kaydel laughing, the sounds tumbling out as her black mood dissolved and was replaced with a flushed embarrassment. Grinning at Rey, she laughed again, saying, “Even _you’re_ taller than me!” and sighed happily before pursing her lips and snapping, “ _Shit!_ ” with a vehemence that quickly dissolved into laughter once again. “ _You’re_ taller and _she’s_ got bigger tits than me…”

In return, a very surprised Rey burst into laughter. “ _I’ve_ not got bigger tits than you!”

Looking up again at Rey, Kaydel decided that Rey really had no idea what was going on. “Not _you_. _That_ captain. Poe fancied her, I’m sure,” she said, her words trailing away into a melancholy quietness and when Rey exclaimed, very simply with “Oh!”, Kaydel’s face darkened with fear and suspicion.

“Do you like Poe?” she asked Rey, a hard edge in her voice.

Backing off quickly in her mind – she had no designs or thoughts towards Poe, at least of _that_ nature and protested aloud, saying, “What? No! I mean, I like Poe – but not like that… Anyway, I’ve only just met him.” She grinned, blushing at her own naivety and added, “No, I have just understood something Leia told me earlier and repeated Leia’s words, ‘ _the way she looked at him!_ ’” and grinning like an idiot, leaned in close to Kaydel.

She certainly felt like an idiot for not putting two and two together earlier. “She’s…they…they are… _together_. Anyway, that’s what Leia thinks,” she said, eyes sparkling with delight at seeing understanding dawning in the blonde.

After Kaydel had left, much happier than she had been, Rey was once more alone but the conversation had stirred up different feelings in Rey, feelings she was uncertain about exploring, even with herself. The air was cold but that was not why she held her arms tight about her chest.

Her memory had always remembered words and gestures most strongly. It must have been a consequence of growing up in Niima Outpost and the deserts of Jakku that Leia’s words echoed in her memory, “ _When I saw how she looked at him”_. Her imagination conjured up a dark figure, enclosed in a terrifying mask, freely setting aside that same mask and she had seen that _he_ was beautiful… _Had he done that to spite me?_

 _Still beautiful_ , she admitted to herself, even with the scar she’d given him.

Leaving had been, she told herself, the right thing to do but a part of her, a part that refusing the comfort of logic, still longed for the touch of his fingers against hers, to hear his deep voice and the prospects of that broad chest and those strong arms…

Around her, Rey felt the Force twitch, just a little, but enough to warn her to stop pursuing that line of thought.

After all, she thought, _what could I possibly say to him?_

*

Tens of thousands of light-years away, the flicker of her presence in the Force and was enough to stop the Supreme Leader of the First Order in his tracks as he strode towards one of the _Finalizer_ ’s turbo-lifts. There was no one around to witness him turn to look back down the distant corridor, eyes searching for someone that reason told him could not actually be here.

Trembling slightly, he breathed in deeply, calming his emotions and fighting against the rage on which he had relied for so long. He realised he had brought a hand to his face and saw it was wet. _I must have been sweating_ , he thought but knew he was being less than truthful with himself. He wanted _her_ and felt the fury rising in his breast, angry at himself for wanting the desert rat…and stopped himself in time.

“You cannot afford to give in to the anger. Not now. You have to bear this burden,” he told himself, closing his eyes and reluctantly letting the Light in. He needed it – for now.


	5. Tensions Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me this is very late - work and indecision over editing the text. I hope this is entertaining. :)

# CHAPTER 4

Below the _Finalizer_ , the world of Coruscant lay half-concealed below layers of scudding cloud, glinting with the lights and colour of a completely urban world which was currently playing host to a powerful battle fleet of over 180 major warships, ranging from the new _Resurgent_ -class Star Destroyers to the small _Dissident_ -class light cruisers.

Alone in the cavernous assembly hall, Hux was furious. He detested Coruscant. Disorderly, dirty and hypocritical.

_If Supreme Leader Snoke were here, we wouldn’t be waiting over this…decadent… world_

Yet, the man for whom he felt almost nothing but contempt had ordered a concentration of the Fleet here. Most of the Core Worlds had either defected or fallen in the few days, although the Corellians and some other systems were still resisting and Hux suspected that he would have trouble persuading the _dark dork_ to concentrate much effort on subduing those important worlds.

 _He’ll likely have us chasing off to check every Outer Rim planet in search of that girl in some vain attempt at revenge_.

At the same time, as the senior generals and admirals of the First Order filed into the hall, Hux knew the other feeling he had about Kylo Ren was… _fear_. Ren was the most powerful Force-user in the Order after the death of Snoke and could legally execute him without warning or charge. Therefore, when the doors of the great hall parted, Hux felt the familiar churning sensation in his stomach as he and the rest of the hall rose all together, while the Supreme Leader of the First Order strode into the great hall.

On the far wall of the hall, a dais had been raised. In the centre of it, a long table ran lengthways and it was behind this table that Hux, alone up there, awaited his presence. Mounting the dais, Kylo Ren first gestured for the red-haired general to sit and then the rest of his officers do the same. At times, though the memories were poisoned by pain, he knew the usefulness of his upbringing with his mother’s remembrances of Alderaanian etiquette and thus how to behave as a ruler ought.

 _Nonetheless_ , _if they will not honour me, they **will** fear me_.

“Warriors of the First Order,” he began, his voice coming out deep and clear in order to be heard across the entire hall without need for amplification, “our victory against the Resistance has been won and we have gained much, though at a heavy cost. The _Supremacy_ , one dreadnought, nine Star Destroyers, countless crew and soldiers and, worst of all,” _hypocrite_ , spoke an inward voice, “the loss of our former leader. I regret that I was not strong enough,” the voice spoke again, _liar_ “to save him from the Jedi but there is much we have gained and much to learn.”

His eyes swept the room, reading the feelings of all those present and noting, not without satisfaction, the rage emanating from behind him. Strangely, in that moment of mastery, he had to conceal a sudden surge of panic. Making a note to mediate upon this dissonance in the Force, Kylo mastered himself and continued.

“In recognising our limits as parts of this _great machine_ ,” he continued, noting with pleasure Hux’s rage at the allusion to Starkiller Base, “we must all _work together!_ I am trained in the ways of the Force, I know how to wield power and destroy our enemies but I cannot lead as our lamented leader did.”

 _There’s a double-edged comment_ , said the voice.

This, he had admitted to himself was true. He had no training in strategy, logistics or all of the bewildering paraphernalia of the military. Close to throwing the holo-display through the wall of his quarters two nights before, he had despaired when he had considered the problem of how he was going to command the vast organisation that was the First Order. His old self, impatient and arrogant, urged him to throw all that pointless detail to Hux but another part of him, usually buried deep down but making itself heard of late had urged him on, saying, _Don’t give Hux the opportunity. You’ve taken control; time to be a man, kid_.

He turned and said directly to Hux, “I require, from _all of us_ ,” before turning back to the room, “advice, so we may advance in unison and conquer with the true harmony of the Order.” _Lying little bastard_ , the voice said, _you know they’re all sharks waiting to feed on one another_. “Accordingly, I want to hear your battle plans for each sector, Army and Navy, so that we may end this war with a minimum of lost time. If there are suggestions for strategy, I want to hear them. I will not be angered at an idea not my own. Our interests lay in the conquest of the rebels and the creation of a new order in the Galaxy.”

Reaching into his robe, Kylo produced a data-tablet and used this to project a huge holographic map of the Galaxy before focusing the map on the Galactic Core and Colonies. Then, naming a sector, he asked for the responsible officers to come forward and the talk began…

The discussions, hesitant at first, became swift as the leader grew accustomed to command and the officers grew accustomed to debate. Plans were explained, questions asked and, much to the irritation of Hux, the dark-haired Supreme Leader listened to complaints voiced openly about resources and strategy. Then Hux would have to explain where the Fleet’s resources lay and what these were and then would then find himself forced argue with both the Supreme Leader and the respective officers about relative effects elsewhere, if such and such a ship or a division were withdrawn from one sector to favour another taskforce.

By the end of the night, all were tired but Kylo knew he had won a battle here. Little had changed in terms of strategy or the distribution of resources but both the generals and admirals knew now that something had changed; the new leader was someone with whom they could speak, not as equals – such a thought was anathema – but as someone prepared to listen and to learn from others. Snoke had not been approachable, except through creatures like Hux, capable though he was but as some murmured, this one might be up to the job…

Finally, Kylo dismissed the officers and watched the black, grey and white ranks depart. Hux had stood up from his seat without ceremony, nursing his frustrations and was halfway down the dais steps towards the main doors when Kylo’s deep voice spoke.

“We haven’t finished.” Hux froze mid-step. For a second, he contemplated outright disobedience but habits of survival got the better of his temper. Hux forced himself to turn and face the man that he inwardly refused to call his _Supreme Leader_.

Kylo was leaning forward, hands with fingers splayed outwards on the black surface of the table. His voice was cold and it reminded Hux of how this dark wizard had taken command from _him_ just days ago but this time it lacked the manic edge of fury. Somehow that was worse.

“You and I are going to discuss our _political_ strategy _._ ”

Eyes hard as flint and with every word dripping contempt, Hux replied. “Yes. Supreme Leader.”

If either man had intended this to be a discussion, he was quickly disabused of that notion.

Afterwards, in his chambers, Kylo slowly pulled off his boots, fell back across the bed and shut his eyes.

Between when he had gazed in disbelief at the dismembered remains of his former master and this day when he had dismissed, first, the officers in the hall and then, eventually, Hux, he had not understood the sheer scale of the task before him. It was now apparent that there was the prospect of long and even endless work ahead if he was to succeed in being able to organise a new order in the galaxy but, he reflected, it was a purpose and _that_ at least was something to have.

*

When the _Millennium Falcon_ departed hyperspace, Rey and Chewbacca were in the pilots’ seats and so were the first to see the planetary body spread broad across the view before the ship. “Yes, that’s it,” she said, replying to Chewie’s question and pointed out the moon, just visible on the eastern horizon. “That’s going to be our home for the next…however long!”

Chewie asked something and Rey laughed as she answered his question.

“No, I’ve not been here before! Ok, the nav-computer has us on two hours at sublight before we can land at Pantora Capital.” Chewie reached across to muss Rey’s hair, barking and moaning in his language to her. “Yes, I will go and get some sleep,” she reassured him, giving the Wookie a broad grin as she set the _Falcon_ on a course towards Orto Plutonia before engaging the autopilot.

After stepping out from the cockpit, Rey walked down the corridor and past a gang of mechanics engaged in gently removing porgs from the piping ductwork in order to get at and repair conduits and circuits. Learning around against the entrance to the lounge area, she could see the General was asleep in the bunk behind the dejarik table and headed back to the apartment created by Han, when he had converted the _Falcon_ ’s old stern cargo-hold.

There, in a spare bunk, she lay down at last. All around her, she could feel the shifting colours and textures in the Force around her as people moved about, talked and led their own lives in this small metal cage of a ship and in doing so, set off small and large harmonics in the Force.

This state of being, existing in a world alive in so many ways was still wondrous to her. Rey reached out with her feelings into the Force, sensing and gently caressing every mind on board the ship, even able to pick out those of the silly porgs – _food, sex, bored, happy!_ – such was the chief content of those little minds and these made her laugh quietly to herself and in doing filled her a little with a happiness to which she was still little accustomed.

_Part of me still feels ready to run at a moment’s notice of danger._

Over in the ship’s bow, she could detect the troubled depths of Leia’s sleeping mind. _Weren’t there troubles enough?_ she thought, and on a whim, reached out to touch the dreaming mind, surprised by the love she felt for the old woman and smiled when the state of Leia’s dreams steadied and Rey fancied that the colours of those dreams turned to an orange-pink.

Across the stern apartment, the girl she knew from Finn to be ‘Rose’ stirred in her sleep, mind rising towards wakefulness as the effect of anaesthetic painkillers faded.

Poe had told her that Rose had been badly injured in the fighting on Crait. Even though the rational part of Rey insisted that without her going to Crait, everyone now here would all have been killed, she still felt vaguely guilty at Rose’s suffering. So, without knowing quite knowing how but following her instincts, she reached out through the Force and gently eased as much as she could of the pain, sensing Rose drifting back into a deep, semi-comatose sleep.

It was just then as Rose slipped beyond the layer of the dreaming mind into the deep unconscious that Rey felt the sudden alarming alteration in the Force and heard a deep and weary voice in the quiet of the bunkroom.

, “…No, General, I do not wish to hear your opinion or your voice on this subject. There will be no political executions without my express authorisation–” Rey sat upright in the bunk, caught in a sudden maelstrom of feelings as standing just in front of the bunk and leaning forward against something unseen, she could see the dark profile of Kylo Ren.

He was just beyond an arm’s reach away from where she lay and, from there, Rey could see just how pale and exhausted Kylo had become, then, with a start, Rey realised that she was, in fact, listening into one half of an argument, the other side of which was being given and that the other person was saying something evidently Kylo did not wish to hear. Her breathing quickened as, irritably, he shook his head and she could see that beyond the exhaustion, he was fighting to restrain his quick anger and was forcing his normally emotional-self to submit to a rigid self-discipline.

Her gaze fell on his black-gloved hands, spread out on whatever surface he was leaning against and felt an irrational compassion rise in her heart. This was just as quickly dispelled when Kylo’s deep voice, raw with controlled anger, cracked like a whip across the room.

“NO! This is my final word. We already hold or will hold the Core and the Colonies and political terror will only make our task harder-”

A long pause occurred in which Rey counted to thirty-three, during which he beheld her for the first time since she had stood on the ramp of the Falcon. He seemed to her to be as surprised by her presence as she was at his. Neither of them exchanged a word before Kylo’s attention returned to the argument and caused him to slam his fist down, as if he were striking a table, and she saw his expression return from surprise into fury as he shouted, “DO NOT THINK I HAVE FORGOTTEN!”

Now he spoke sharply with the words tumbling out one after the other, “You destroyed the bulk of the Republic Fleet – Yes! And the government – Yes! But just WHAT did we gain besides a temporary advantage?” he spat, glaring away from Rey, silent and clenching his gloved hands into tight fists.

 _Temporary advantage?_ Rey replayed his words and was caught by a wave of dark anger from within, furious at his cynicism over the deaths of billions of people and stood to shout at him when she was caught by surprise at his sudden growl and Rey was just able to stifle a yelp as Kylo snarled at the other person and stalking across the room, “Yes. You destroyed the Hosnian system…and what happened next? The whole fucking base was lost! The bloody rebels made sure you could never do it again…and the whole damned galaxy knew we had done it. Now we have to conquer them all or find some other way.”

He paused again, shaking his head, muttering “No” repeatedly under his breath before his head snapped up, a wild look in his eyes and roared across the room, “I HAVE spoken. Defy me on this matter, Hux,” he stabbed a finger across the room, “and I will personally execute YOU and ANY subordinate who follows such an order! IS THAT CLEAR?” he bellowed.

There was silence. Rey did not speak and judging from the way Kylo was calmly stared across at… _Hux_ …he was waiting for a reply. It must have come for he gave a small nod, acknowledging whatever was said and though he was breathing rapidly, Rey watched him, his hands pressing into the table as Kylo fought to regain control of his emotions.

“Now,” he said, his voice cool once again, “next on the agenda –” Then, in the next breath, he was gone.

Rey stood, one hand on the top bunk and stared across the room, trying to make sense of what she had seen. The one thing that was now certain was the… _connection_ …was back.

Alone now with the ghosts of her memories, Rey lay back in the bunk, blinking away tears, ashamed that she’d ever felt… _what?_... about him. Unable to stop them, her thoughts raced back to a fire-lit night and a vision of a future.

Wiping her eyes, she curled up on her side, alone again in a way she’d not felt since the cave.

*

Since they first landed on that morning, Rey had been entranced by the verdant wetlands of Pantora with their abundance of wildlife and especially the many kinds of brightly coloured birds, while in the waters lived lizards, amphibians and countless insects and so spent as much time as she could spare out here.

In the midst of all this beauty, work commenced on carving a new base out of the soft, dark earth itself. On Finn’s advice, the utmost attention was paid to camouflaging the facilities and over the long week, the rebels as they now thought of themselves, slowly joined by other survivors of the war’s opening, laboured to make a bright start to their hopes. Even the landing pads were disguised; the turf and reeds dug up and set aside as hexagonal pits two feet deep were dug to lay prefabricated hard-panels over drainage pipes. Finally, when the turf was replaced, the base when viewed from the air was indistinguishable from the surrounding marshland.

Beneath the soil ran a network of tunnels connecting plasteel bunkers, home now after a week to nearly two hundred rebels. As Finn and his friends looked about the command bunker festooned with its portable sensor and communications equipment, he felt proud of what they had all achieved…even if the base still dripped from its ceilings. Then, looking around, he felt something – or rather someone was missing.

He was met with a cry of “Hey!” when he walked into the med-bay and he rushed over to Rose, who was struggling to get up to greet the tall hero, as she still called him. “Steady!” he said, taking her arms and gently lifting Rose, so she could sit with him on the edge of the bed.

For the last week, when he had found time to spare, he’d spent it with Rose, cheering her, putting up with her irritation at the stubborn refusal of her body to mend itself faster. For the thousandth time, he flashed her a big smile and chucked her under the chin and with an encouraging voice told her that “Broken bones heal just as fast without bacta.” Technically, this wasn’t true, though there wasn’t a big difference in healing rates when bacta was involved or not but they both knew all supplies were critically short – or simply absent.

“Are you getting enough to eat?” he asked. Rose nodded as she pulled Finn’s arm over her shoulders to press close against him and then immediately regretted this when her ribs vehemently protested against being squeezed but the pain was worth it, she thought as she smelt the marsh-damp, sweat and oil on this man and thinking about how their fates had been intertwined.

“Well,” Finn started, tipping her face up to his, “since you’re up and about…” he suggested, making Rose laugh, or rather splutter, when her ribs vetoed the exertion of laughter. Then she was stuck silent as Finn pressed his lips to hers for the second time in their lives. For Rose, the pain was forgotten in an instant, her heart dismissing the growing list of complaints from other parts of her body as she melted under the kiss. Eventually, the catalogue grew too long and with a curse, she had to break away, letting go of her man to wrap her arms around those aching, treacherous, ribs. Parts of her which had been quiescent up till now were now queuing up to present the bill and she was fighting against a desire to simply collapse back into the comfortable but boring bed.

Breaking away from their kiss, Finn made to get up, “I’ll leave you to get some more rest,” he said but Rose’s hand shot out to seize hold of his. “Don’t go!” she pleaded. He was about to explain that she was still hurt but she got in ahead of him… “It’s so boring, not being able to help…and without you…”

“It won’t be long now,” he assured her, stroking her face. The warmth of his hand made her mind up. _Fuck you, body_.

Persuading Finn to fetch a bottle of stim-pills, she thumbed one, swallowed and though her strength was many times less than his, right now anyway, pulled Finn back to her side and leaned in to continue their kiss, whispering, “Third time’s the charm, right?” When Finn started to get up again, Rose played her last card, taking his hand and pressing to her breast, groaning from her protesting ribs but even more because… _damn it, it_ _felt really good!_

Neither of them knew for how long they held the kiss, Finn and Rose both starting to think of nothing better than laying down in the bunk together, when the sound of footsteps outside the med-bay door could heard and Rose finally let Finn go.


	6. Confrontation and Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadows contain truth and fear...

# CHAPTER 5

Surrounded by strangers and half-dazzled by the glare of the lights overhead, Rey listened to him talk in that put-upon way of his when he was nervous. With people whom he knew even reasonably well, Poe was smooth and confident but now two weeks after the start of the war with hundreds of personnel in the base and nearly a hundred of these crammed just into the command centre, Poe was definitely not at ease with the prospect.

Shooting glances all about him, Rey could feel his discomfort, yet with his friends close by, Poe was steadier and more resolute. This was the first time in days many of them had seen one another as new units had been formed and the veterans of “the stand”, as some of the recruits now called the action on Crait, were split amongst the recruits so as to lead by example.

Rey touched Poe’s thoughts through the Force, easing his anxiety, though he was unaware of her doing so – something she had done many times for many people around the base in the fortnight since she had left her home. Poe set his hands on his hips, letting his eyes take them all in, this small group of friends and veterans, grinned and remarked offhandedly, “I bet when the history books are written, they won’t write about the mould!”

This got a laugh from the group, the noise of which caused some of the new personnel to look over at the group. Rey picked up on the mixture of different emotions running through the new people and felt vaguely jealous of the easy camaraderie that had grown up between them all.

It was true, she reflected, about the mould. The damp was impossible to stop until the base could acquire some industrial dehumidifying units and, until then, everyone here had to put up with clothing never quite dry and the constant attention of the med-droids for those prone to the illnesses to be found in damp swamp conditions. Yet as Rey took in the sight of the room, here the Rebellion was growing. Still less than a thousand here but elsewhere in the Galaxy, other cells had been established and must be growing just as they were.

A slow hush settled on the group and the steady click-click sound of a walking cane could be heard amidst the slow shuffle of boots as the crowd parted for General Organa Solo. It was time to listen, even as the ceiling hung low with an unnatural fog, distorting the harsh lights to give to the gathering an unreal air.

“Friends,” Leia began, “although I am sure you have heard this in some way or other before, first I want to say ‘Thank you’ to everyone who has risked everything to stand with us today to resist the tyranny of the First Order and to work towards restoring freedom all across the galaxy.

“Now…” she paused, letting herself slowly take in the presence of every man, every woman and of each representative of the many sentient species. “Now…” she said, resuming her speech, “this is going to be a tough time, maybe a much more arduous trial than we faced at the start of the war.

“We have all heard about the fall of most of the Core and Colony worlds to the First Order and we must not fool ourselves into thinking we could have stopped those losses. Many of the most prosperous worlds were already unwilling to protect the Republic – even before the death of the Hosnians and we have to accept – for now – that many will be unwilling to side with us.

“But!” she raised her voice, pointing a finger skywards, “this will change. We _know_ the First Order. We _know_ what it is capable of…and if the rest of the galaxy did not _know_ , then the atrocity at Hosnian will have spelt out what submission to the First Order will _mean_ for every citizen of the galaxy.”

Her words struck home, as she had intended – darkness but not without hope. In the amphitheatre of emotion, Leia missed a discordant note, pleased that her audience was responding as so many had before in her long life.

“It will be a long hard war but we have already proven we _can_ beat those people, even at heavy odds. Many more of us shall come, we are bringing new planets, new systems, new organisations into the alliance, all dedicated to ridding the galaxy of tyranny!

“So, friends,” she said, flinging out her arms as if to embrace them all, “do not despair. Though our enemies are strong, we will prove stronger still and show the galaxy that though the night is dark, the light will always return, if you have the strength to believe!”

Everyone applauded and cheered, then repeated the performance for Commander Dameron, his rank restored to him soon after landing on Pantora, as Poe stepped up to join the General at the room’s centre.

Away in the corner with the others from Crait, Kaydel whooped and cheered Poe on. Out of the corner of her eye, Rey saw the young Major, for like all of them, the survivors had been promoted to fill vacant slots in the growing hierarchy of the Rebellion and she was happy, for Kaydel was often stiff and distant, yet her cheeks filled with a deep blush every time she beheld the Commander.

Leia having stepped aside in order to sit down, silently encouraging Poe to speak. It was vital, she had told him the other day that he make himself known to the ‘people’, slowly manoeuvring Poe’s objections out of the way until he had no choice to agree. All those years in the Senate had sharpened her skills, skills she needed now as she sought to do what her mentor, Mon Mothma, had done so well so many years ago, bringing together the various groups resisting Imperial rule.

Calling for quiet and receiving it, Poe began in a nervous, hesitant voice. “People, Leia is right. We can beat these thugs – they’re well trained but not imaginative except when it comes hurting the innocent! But, make no mistake, they are aggressive and violent and you will all need to train hard, accept your orders and trust your commanders – which means," he paused, grinned and gestured to himself, "Trust me!” and got the laugh he had sought.

He then fell back onto the seriousness of the military situation. “But remember, the First Order heavily outnumber us – for now! So, we will _not_ be attacking any outposts or enemy forces – if we can avoid it – _until_ we are strong enough to make them hurt!

Poe raised his voice to fill the whole room, “And we WILL”, he shouted, “MAKE THEM HURT! We WILL get revenge for every death, for every place, for every planet they have gutted and looted and burned and WE WILL MAKE THEM BURN and WE WILL WIPE THEM OUT FROM THE GALAXY!”, venting all his pent-up hurt and anger, remembering his pain at the hands of the First Order and the undeserved slaughter of the Jakku villagers before that.

In the room, the audience roared its approval, baying, Rey thought like dogs with a scent of blood in their nostrils, and thought she could feel a cold, deadly shadow creeping into the room.

The breeze that blew across the marshes cooled the evening air, stirring the myriads of reeds and rushes and carrying their mingled scents across to by a twisted tree, where a short distance from a concealed bunker entrance, a quarterstaff slashed through the air as Rey practiced her fighting steps.

This way, then that, the staff whirled and stabbed at an invisible enemy and then reversing her movement in a flash, hands moving with practiced ease, the staff struck the tree with vicious force and was whipped back just as quickly. All the while, as her brown hair flew about her eyes, Rey delved deeper into the Force, concentrating more and more on the ritual steps, allowing the Force to channel her awareness away from the haunting visions of blood and death present in her inner mind since Poe’s call for his kind of war.

 _War_.

She could not escape that thought.

Slowing down in order to stand still, Rey tried to make sense of her feelings. Yes, she wanted to see the First Order gone. Her position on this matter had hardened after listening to the many tales of suffering and atrocities committed by those beasts but, still, her mind kept coming back to the question of _war_.

Leaning on her staff, she gazed out across the wind-blown reeds to where she could make out one of the marsh hawks climbing into the sky, where she knew it would circle in the evening light, waiting for some unwary prey to creep out from its lair. Her words, spoken during Luke’s first lesson, crept back from memory and unbidden she recited:

_Life. Death and decay, that feeds new life. Warmth. Cold. Peace. Violence._

“Is this all a part of the same cycle?” she mused aloud. All around her, she could feel that same tension, that same energy she had felt in the cliff-side temple, mirrored between her and the surrounding world . If life and death were mirrored in the Force…

In the desert, Rey had had much time, whilst in the depths of the rusting hulks strewn across the sands to think like this – what Leia had called “contemplation”, although mostly her contemplations had been centred upon why each type of ship had been built in a different way, searching for answers in the structures and materials left in the blackened hulls.

Contemplation had been dangerous too, for there had been predators of a sentient nature, often her fellow scavengers. If one scavenger had not been aware enough of his surroundings, others would take advantage and make off with his or her gatherings…or worse. Rey had learnt to fight from an early age, staying away from others when she could and gaining a reputation as a scavenger not to be fucked with – otherwise, the screams she’d heard might have been her own.

She whipped round, staff in hand. Her sight perceived a dark figure, swathed in the gathering shadows of evening but Rey relaxed as her Force senses told her it was Leia. The old woman greeted her, taking Rey’s hands in hers and allowing Rey to kiss Leia on the cheek, a privilege only shared by a few here.

Behind the General, golden C-3PO was trying to catch up in that archaic gait of his, carrying in both mechanical hands a pair of folding stools. Perplexed, Rey looked from the droid to the mistress, her eyebrows expressing the question, which Leia then answered.

“It’s peaceful out here,” she said, turning to Threepio and gesturing for where she wanted the stools set up. To Threepio’s anxious fretting, she replied, “No. I have my cloak and it _is_ a _summer_ evening after all.”

“Are you, _quite_ sure, your Highness – oh, sorry, General?”

“Quite sure, Threepio. Now go back inside. I wish to talk with Rey alone for a while.”

“Well, perhaps, some hot _challa_?”

Sternly, she ordered the droid away. Rey was certain, metal though was Threepio, his feelings were hurt. Leia sensing Rey’s thoughts, laid a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just worried about me – fussing like an old hen! I’m old but not that old.”

“Why would Threepio be worried?” asked Rey, trying to judge for herself. Leia’s spiritual presence was solid enough. Was she missing something?

“I’m just old and overworked. Nothing has ever been different – except getting older!” laughed Leia before her expression took on a more serious cast. “And I need to talk to you – no,” she started again, “I _need you_ to tell me what you couldn’t in a more _dangerous_ place.”

Rey took the hint and it took more than a second to screw up her courage. This was, after all, _his_ mother. She bit her lip and began.

As Rey talked, Leia remained silent, keeping a tight rein over her feelings and not letting a single emotion show. The silence, as she has seen so many times before, for an agent – and Rey was, from a certain point of view, an agent – became a sort of confessional and she listened with a mixture of alarm, which at times reached the various heights of horror, and joy.

Her tale was not always coherent, Rey cursing her own naivety and weakness for going to the cave, for believing Ben – _Ben? She called him Ben?_ – and for being angry with Luke, when, Rey said, she should have listened.

Rey’s face was pregnant with tears as she described the moment when their fingers touched over the fire. “I thought I saw his future. I thought I saw the real Ben, not the monster he called himself. I _knew_ if I went to him, he would turn…” she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, “ _I thought he would turn back and come back with me… Come to you!_ ” mewing now through the tears she could no longer keep back.

“I was so stupid! I thought Ben would resist Snoke, if I was there to help him. Instead – instead, he thought _I was going to be the one to turn – to stand by him!_ ”

Silently, holding tightly onto her feelings, Leia urged Rey on. _I need to know_ , she thought, _I need to know what happened_.

Collecting her thoughts, Rey went back to the cave. “I saw a thousand me’s, stretching into infinity. I told him that I felt I had to go on – I had to discover the truth. Luke had warned me – the Dark offered me something I needed and I fell for it!”

She looked up with wet, shining eyes in the evening half-light. “The worst part…was that Ben was right. I _was lying_ to _myself_. I’m nobody – I thought I had parents who would come back for me someday.” Wringing her hands with despair, “He knew. He’d seen it – in my mind. I was a slave! I’d been _sold!_ ”

Rey wept for the loss of her illusions, those illusions which had kept her going, hoping one day…

Eventually the tears slowed and she was able to carry on. In a voice, bleak and empty, she said to Leia, “I went to Ben. Like a fool. And like the fool I was, he mocked me – he said I’d not been wise enough to resist the trap that had been set.”

Eventually the tears slowed and she was able to carry on. In a voice, bleak and empty, she said to Leia, “I went to Ben. Like a fool. And like the fool I was, he mocked me – he said I’d not been wise enough to resist the trap that had been set.”

Inwardly, Leia reeled. This was all too like her father and Leia saw once again a vision of that cruel warlord and remembered the torments she and Han had suffered…

Rey’s voice was by now almost completely devoid of emotion. “Ben killed him.”

Despite all her years of self-control, Leia’s hands trembled with hope on hearing those three words. _Killed who?_ The image of Han floated into her vision… She knew Ben had killed his own father…and yet she had not been able to truly accept that he had done so. Nor had she forgiven herself…

Rey spoke slowly as one approaching a certain doom, not looking at Leia but away into some dreamlike memory. “Snoke swatted me aside, tore out my secrets and then gave me to Ben for execution. _I really thought then I was going to die…_ He cut him in half…” she tailed off, gazing into the darkness.

Beside her, Leia dared not move, her heart half filled with hope… She understood that within a few days her son had slain his father but then when faced with this far easier prospect of killing… _Perhaps? Could it be?_

Taking a deep breath, Rey finished her tale, describing the aftermath of the battle in the throne room and losing Ben to Kylo. “He wanted me to join him…to rule the Galaxy.” _Just like Luke and his father_ , thought Leia. “He wouldn’t even try…I asked him to save everyone. He just wanted to take Snoke’s place. I was the bait for them both… I’m such an idiot.”

Finally, Leia broke her silence. “How did you get away? Did he just let you leave?” and recalled the smashed lightsaber, once borne by her brother, cradled in Rey’s hands as the _Millennium Falcon_ had sped away from Crait.

“He had the lightsaber. I tried to take it off him. We fought and it _split in two! Bang!_ ” she gestured with her hands to illustrate the violent motion, “When I woke up, everywhere was on fire. That must have been just after the cruiser hit Snoke’s ship. Ben was unconscious… I had his lightsaber and for a moment I was tempted…”

 _I was tempted…_ At these words, Leia’s eyes widened involuntarily as her heart lurched in time with the rising storm of feelings within her but then Rey’s words relieved the sudden fear.

“He confuses me. I gave him back his and took the other half of mine. Even though he wouldn’t turn, I wish I could have persuaded him to come back…to you and to everyone,” she said, looking up again into Leia’s brown eyes.

Leia leaned forward, gently taking Rey’s head in her hands as she had once done for her own son, consoling this wondrous child, saying to her, “You did the right thing. You have a good heart. Don’t let my son break it…” _for mine has already been broken.._.

“But don’t give up hope either. The last thing Luke said to me before he faced Ben was ' _Nobody is really gone'.'_ Be patient! You were right too! He does have good in him – otherwise, he would have killed you and not Snoke.”

“He used me!” protested Rey.

“No!” Leia cried, knowing intuitively that here, on this point, she was right. She could feel how the Force flowed through the both of them and knew that it was guiding her on the right path.

“Do you not understand? To choose the darkness, you must _destroy what you love!_ ” She shook her head, finding the right words. “I’m not saying he loves you – I don’t know if he could feel such a thing but you must have helped him – helped him realise that Han’s death was _wrong!_ He’s not given up the darkness but he’s not turned away from the light – not completely!”

Leia smiled, a tired, old smile, sensing a lightening of Rey’s spirit. “And besides – you’ve done the Rebellion a great service! Snoke was a much better leader than Ben – you didn’t see the mess he made at Crait. And just think! Every officer in the First Order will be looking at Ben as an obstacle to their advancement! We _will_ win in the end!”

Silently, in her mind, Rey replayed the furious quarrel waged between Ben and Hux and wondered if Ben’s mother was right…


	7. Of Means & Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A billowing white briefly surrounded the expensive yacht until, with a flash, the blue of the stratosphere spread out over a vast pale surface of gently broiling cloud. Above, almost directly ahead of the yacht's bow was a vast grey dagger, seemingly small yet increasing rapidly as the yacht climbed higher through the atmosphere.  
> Glancing back at his passengers, the pilot hoped this would work out as his Lord intended...

# CHAPTER 6

One of the sights of the core world of Carida, so he has been told, was the zero-g manufacturing facilities on board the Saiyani station, hanging suspended in orbit above that blue and green world.

It certainly was a specular view, he mused.

Kylo Ren was stood on a floor made up of metal grills over the clear intelli-glass of the observation dome with two of his knights, Hadrix and Ildor. The former was a huge figure, the other tall but slender by comparison, though both men were clothed in the armour, battlemasks and dark cloaks signifying the high status of each as a Knight of Ren.

Their master had taken advantage of the silence to commune with his two companions, barely saying a word to the others and communicating by means of images and feelings in a way that only a droid might easily have recognised. He had known them since they were teenagers together at his uncle’s temple and all the Knights of Ren were possessed a deep bond in the Force and, so, were able to make their mere thoughts understood to one another.

An image of Snoke had passed through their minds and each shared the strange relief the Knights had experienced since the death of their master, now just a few weeks ago. Their master had ruled their bond, always perceiving the secrets of their souls, slaves to his will, bound in fear and temptation to the now slain god.

Up here, in orbit, Kylo was about to take a dangerous step as he and his companions waited for the _gathering_ as it had been called. The Caridans were a strange species, humanoid but they had been loyal to the Empire and like many other systems in the last week had offered their allegiance to the First Order. He knew Hux wanted Carida. The Imperial training facilities must be decrepit after thirty years but they were extensive enough to satisfy the massive military expansion being planned by the First Order.

Now, he took a mental step over the fateful stream. He did not entirely trust his two companions, although far more than any officer of the First Order but they were the most likely, he hoped to _listen_.

It was Hadrix, giant brutal Hadrix, who spoke first.

“You’re a fool” but had done so without any inflection or feeling.

Slowly his master turned his head towards him. “Yes”, Kylo replied in like manner.

“The others won’t like it,” a gravelly voice commented. The other knight, Ildor Ren, had been shot in the throat in the midst of a battle to subdue a slave rebellion two years ago and yet they had witnessed the bloodied knight rise, as if from the dead, using the Force to pull the rebel slaves from the upper stories of the barracks blocks and hurl them screaming to their deaths in the huge furnaces that the slaves had worked day and night.

“The others can shove it up their arseholes,” growled Hadrix, his anger growing and, instinctively, he wanted reach back for the huge vibro-blade sword that was his pride and joy. Watching him, Kylo recalled Hadrix wielding _Hellreaver_ in a corridor, illuminated by blaster bolts, as the giant killer _danced_ between shots and left blood and gore splattered across the floors and walls in his path. There was a savage beauty about the giant in battle but then the battle-fury of _all_ the Knights of Ren was savage and terrible to behold.

Reading the thoughts of the others, Ildor spoke. “You’re a fool, Kylo, but an honest fool and you set us free from Snoke. It was time we outgrew him. She’s powerful.”

“Yes” came the reply.

Hadrix grunted. “We should kill her,” and snorted in derision as Kylo’s sharp eyes glared murder at him. “But you won’t will you?” he added in a dry, mocking tone, “The little witch has cast her spell over you.”

“She will be dangerous,” said the other to Kylo.

“I said I would destroy her.”

“Will you?” Ildor asked.

Without hesitation, Kylo replied. “No.”

“Then what?” Hadrix demanded.

In answer, Kylo opened his mind to the other two once again, showing them the image of his grandfather’s mask and his memory of the two sides of the Force, the dark and light coming together, giving Kylo the strength and resolve to deceive and slay their former master.

“The Force has spoken. We must listen first and act accordingly.”

“You’d better be right, Kylo” said Ildor but he had spoken without hostility.

_Perhaps this will work_.

Below them, all three could see the first of a stream of ships climbing out of the atmosphere towards Saiyani Station.

*

“Bloody fool,” Hux muttered to his aide.

“Yes, sir!” toadied the aide, nervously watching every twitch in the General’s pale face as Hux watched craft of various age and size jostled for position, the crews seeming to try to be the first to disembark – or if this were not possible to keep ahead of certain other ships.

The General flushed with irritation. “It’s a _fucking mess!_ ” he swore at the lieutenant. “Here we are, restoring true order to the galaxy and that…” he slowed down, tempering his anger with the survival instincts which two weeks under the authority of the new Supreme Leader had only served to hone.

Through gritted teeth, he slowly breathed out, cooling his temper. _Ren_ , as he called the Supreme Leader in private company, had only once…laid hands on his person…for want of a better word but that had been enough to warn Hux that he must now play a waiting game.

Even so, the bloody fool, as he called him in the space of his own mind, had not proven completely incompetent, even if there were signs of that…weakness, Hux had detected long ago in the pretentious black twerp. Supreme Leader Snoke should have disposed of that fool and his band of misbegotten…sorcerers. _He_ understood _power_.

Now, If _I_ commanded the First Order…

He controlled the dangerous impulse, having learnt _Ren_ could read his thoughts…almost as easily as Snoke had done. Marshalling his rage, he buried as deep as he could, all thought of _that_ subject. It could wait.

“I see the _savages_ are here,” he said, pronouncing the word with all the contempt he felt for _inferior life-forms_ , as the first of the tough, barrel-chested Caridan merchant-nobles arrived and Hux turned away, only pausing to briefly remark to his aide.

“Let’s hope _he_ knows what he’s doing.”

*

As the last of the nobles departed, Hux remained silent, seemingly scanning the aliens with his normal contempt for all things not belonging to the First Order. Throughout the long moot, sat close to the man he despised as Supreme Leader, he’d been forced to listen to interminable formal speeches delivered by each of the senior nobles in good but accented Basic, each rambling on about the honour of this house or that and the wrongs done to that house by this or that other house. To his keen-eyed aide, for dull-witted junior officers did not live long in Hux’s service, the warning signs were there in the thin, compressed lips and the way the General’s hands gripped the arms of his chair.

Glancing over at the Supreme Leader, the aide could see him conferring with the other two black shadows of terror, in that wordless and eldritch manner of theirs, and the young man inwardly groaned and wished he were elsewhere, even in a fighting command than to be here and caught between the twin nightmares of Hux and Ren.

The scrape of the chair as the General rose was matched in his aide by the icy touch of terror as it shot up his spine and down to his bowels. Hux faced the Supreme Leader, who nodded to his two dark servants. They understanding his intentions, bowed and departed but for Lt Mitaka, no matter how fervently he wished to be away from these two, he remained imprisoned, stood to attention and apparently forgotten.

“Since when did we treat cattle with respect?”

“Are you speaking to him or to me?” replied Kylo. He had been seated and silently reading from a datapad in his hand. Now he rose with a dangerous fire smouldering in his dark eyes, “Because…if you’re speaking to me, then you _will_ address me by my proper title.”

_Fool – Idiot – take your pick_ , thought Hux. “I merely question the advisability of what you have just agreed to… _Supreme Leader_ ,” said Hux, acidly pronouncing the title.

“We have what we wanted,” Kylo replied, looking sharply at Hux, “what _you_ wanted – the old Imperial training facilities and the academy.”

Mitaka noted how the Supreme Leader towered over the General, who seemed to unaware or uncaring of this detail.

“And when word gets around that alien _filth_ can presume to _treat_ with the First Order, what _next?_ Will _you_ indulge them _all?_ Involve yourself in their _petty little quarrels_ or attend their degenerate festivals?” Out of the corner of his eye, Hux could see the discarded datapad and briefly noted that it bore a long list of names, some of which sounded similar to names he had heard today in the hall and swiftly dismissed these as not worth his consideration.

“What would you suggest?” Kylo asked, calmly.

“Behave as the First Order should do and _has_ done…until recently. Inform them that we are taking possession and order them to hand over the funds to rebuild and run our facilities on Carida. If they refuse, pick a city and level it to let them who rules in the Galaxy.”

Kylo raised his eyebrows with surprise. “Pure terror? We already have reports of major systems outside the Core and Colonies allying themselves with the Rebels and yet we haven’t even completely subdued the resistance in the Core sectors.”

“We would,” Hux replied, “have already suppressed _all_ disorder in the Core, if we _had_ used terror. A few millions of dead on Coruscant, for example, would have served as warning for all those systems that would dare defy us. We would have already suppressed _all_ disorders in the Core, if _you_ had had the _strength of_ _will_ to utilise terror for its _proper_ purpose!”

This had been delivered in his characteristic staccato but now the pace of his words increased as his façade of cool detachment cracked, snarling now at the man he regarded foremost as his enemy. “A few million dead on Coruscant would have served as an _object_ _lesson_ to the _scum_ of the lower levels! We _could_ have _levelled whole areas_ of that _filthy hive_ in an afternoon and thereby sent a message to all enemies of the First Order!”

“And that message would have read: fight us to the death because you know what will await you, even if you surrender!” Kylo snapped back at Hux, his teeth bared as his own anger threatened to get the better of his self-control. “And what about your _precious_ army, General? How would you recruit loyal soldiers to fight this huge war _you_ have set in motion? They would desert or betray the First Order at the _first_ opportunity!”

Hux’s hand snapped forwardtoward Kylo’s face, a finger extended menacingly, “We don’t!” Hux shouted, his voice rising and spittle flecked his lips. “ _My_ army is loyal to the First Order and I – the First Order –will rule by _my_ army! We shall do as we have done for the last generation – take _their_ _children_ as hostages and their fear for their children shall keep the Galaxy in order until _they_ realise that _I_ ,” he shouted again, “ _I shall turn their own children into their executioners!_ All _treachery_ will be wiped out in the Galaxy! _FOREVER!_ Do you understand me, _Ren?!_ ”

Forgotten by the two men, Mitaka winced at the harshness of the General’s ranting and waited for the inevitable explosion of the Supreme Leader’s volatile temper and the dismemberment of the General. Yet the inevitable did not come to pass and, instead, he watched the Supreme Leader take a step closer to the General, who did not flinch, his mouth screwed up into a gesture of loathing and contempt.

“ _Your_ army?” the Supreme Leader asked levelly, his voice low and conveying a warning to Hux.

“Yes, _Ren_ ,” replied Hux, either forgetting himself or past caring, “ _Mine_.” His tone changed, dropping back into one sarcastic and mocking, “Programmed from birth, remember? _Loyal_ to the First Order,” and paused to let the accusation hang between them before adding, “ _Loyal_ to _me_. _Mine_.” He repeated the last word, hissing it passed his lips, ‘ _Mine_ ’.

“For now…” Kylo warned him, darkly. Hux seemed either not to have heard the warning or simply did not care.

“I will say this, _Supreme Leader_ ,” said Hux, pronouncing Kylo’s title with that same mocking tone, “ _You_ are too _soft_ to lead the Galaxy to a _new order_.” The Supreme Leader’s eyes flashed towards Hux but the General was by now possessed with an arrogance of invulnerability to futile attempts at intimidation.

_He could kill me_ , he thought, remembering the humiliation of that dark day in the throne room, _but he won’t. He’s too much of a coward_.

“Leave” he was told.

Instead of a swift execution, as _he_ would have done, Hux and his aide were together dismissed. With a triumphant, contemptuous sneer at Ren, Hux turned his back to the Supreme Leader and made his own way out of the chamber, confirmed in his option of the fool who had taken _his_ rightful position.

Once safely away, Hux was free to give full rein to his plans and allow himself to openly confirm to himself, _Yes, Ren is a dangerous liability_ _to the First Order_ , before burying, as deep as he could conceive of, the first serious thoughts on the matter of how Ren should be removed – _permanently_.

*

A small Republic Navy squadron had been caught in the remains of the Anaxes system by a First Order Navy battlegroup. The action had been a short, sharp one and as the battlegroup pulled away from the wreckage, the battlegroup commander had noted, with a certain degree of aloofness and surprise, a particular report in the list of official announcements. For a while, he mused on this matter, turning over various possibilities over before quietly remarking, “Well, well…” Then, taking note of the polite interest to his left, he languidly offered the datapad to his companion.

The bridge of the Star Destroyer _Absolution_ hummed with quiet but intense activity while the Fleet Captain took her time in reading the report. When she had finished, she read it over again and not quite believing what she had just read, she read it over once more to be certain. Initially, she had been confused by the report, not perceiving in it any matter of great significance but, on the third reading, a new feeling took hold and she realised this sudden excitement was, in fact, mutual.

The commander rose from his command seat and was standing in a way now long familiar to her, legs slightly parted nd his hands clasped behind back in the correct posture for an officer of the Imperial Navy as he had been so many years ago. Even here on the command deck and in full view of all the bridge crew, they shared a strangely intimate solitude, a sort of public privacy with him.

Quietly, she cleared her throat and as he looked back down at her, she asked, “Sir, What do you think this portends?”

“I am starting to see a pattern. One, which may lead to the victory-giver,” came the reply.

“Come, let us walk a little”, he ordered. Turning around, she accompanied him down the long path between the sunken crew stations of the bridge of the Star Destroyer and as the main doors to the bridge slid open and the two stormtroopers on guard presented parade ground salutes, he lightly touched her arm, causing her to briefly forget her duty as he stared into her liquid blue eyes.

“Captain, I am retiring to my quarters as I must meditate upon this particular puzzle. I leave the battlegroup in your capable hands” he said, looking her up and down in a way that made her grateful for Navy protocol, which forbade the ship’s ordinary crew to stare back at their superiors, such an act regarded as wilful disrespect.

“Any further orders, Admiral?” she asked, silently speaking adding – _my love –_ with her wide blue eyes.

“Have the fleet reports sent to my quarters and any material Intelligence can muster on the next target system,”

“Of course, Admiral!” smiled the Fleet Captain.

“Good,” he said and, at first, turned to leave, taking a few steps, then just as the Fleet Captain had begun the return journey to the command deck, he halted and spoke without turning around to face the bridge. “Captain, signal the captains of the other Star Destroyers. We must celebrate this victory in the old style!”

_That will please the_ others, she thought, reflecting on the shared heritage of the battlegroup’s commanding officers. She stole a glance back and caught him half facing her, his keen eyes glinting. “You will of course brief me on those reports after dinner.”

_After dinner_ … The Fleet Captain had to suppress a sudden desire to smirk as deliciously wicked ideas bubbled up in her mind and heat pooled deep in her belly.

“Of course, Admiral.”


	8. Starlight / Firelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starlight is cold and weak. Firelight is bright and fierce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has had multiple rewritings as I have sought to refine the plot and tighten up the story. I hope it now works. :)  
> Note:  
> [1] Ecumenopolis: a completely urbanised world.

#  CHAPTER 7

Cruising through the slowly expanding wreckage of what had once been the bulk of a First Order strike force, the crew of the battered old _Venator_ -class Star Destroyer _Indisputable_ were in a high state of morale, one only found, mused her captain, with victory and here the Alsakan Royal Navy had just won such a victory.

If one stood upon the bridge of an old Star Destroyer, one had an unsurpassed panoramic view of the battlefield and the _Indisputable_ was no exception, nor even an _old_ ship for she had been through a major modernisation programme in the last two years, as had thousands of other warships in the plethora of planetary defence forces across the Galaxy.

A squadron of royal X-Wings swept over the bridge into view just as there came a bright flash from a burning cruiser some three kilometres away. The Captain guessed that the cruiser’s critical reactor containment fields had finally failed, the resulting internal fires detonating all hyperspace fuel and ammunition on board. For what seemed a long time, he watched with detachment as a white-yellow cloud rolled outwards, marking the grave of a once mighty warship.

 _We may see much more of that sort of thing_ , he thought and heard approaching steps coming across the bridge. When the Admiral joined him, the Captain of the _Indisputable_ saluted and managed hide his distaste at the smell of expensive brandy.

Silently, the Captain once again felt his growing contempt for the loose morals and licentiousness of the old man and – worse – his encouragement of the younger officers in those pursuits, and yet, his resentment, though honestly felt, was best hidden, for Admiral Archlonus Anaro was a close blood-relation of the King and since the captain one day wished to hoist his own flag until then he would have to continue to grant… _little favours_ … to the likes of Admiral Arano.

“Reckless fellows, eh, Captain?”

“Yes, sir. No tactical skill or finesse. Merely hurling their ships at our battle line,” replied the captain while mentally cataloguing the damage taken by _Indisputable_ and her escorts by those same _reckless fellows_.

“Hey, hey!” the Admiral cried out, his delighted face scarlet – _was the old man sodden already?_ – “Take down a message! No! _Two_ messages! Firstly – tell those young _scoundrels_ of the fighter squadrons ‘well done!’ for breaking up those TIE attacks!

“And, secondly,” the admiral paused, pursing his ruddy lips, “Tell that _woman,_ the First Order will be back in greater strength soon and we could use such aid as her _self-styled_ Rebellion could give!”, emphasising ‘self-styled’ with two opposite jerks of his head that the Captain thought made the Admiral merely look ridiculous.

But instead of giving voice to his opinion, the _Indisputable_ ’s captain merely replied with a sycophantic “Yes, sir”, laughing along with his superior and hoping that the young weapons officer would be the one to catch the old bugger’s eye at the wardroom dinner tonight.

*

She awoke with a start and, after looking about in the pitch darkness of the room, had reached out with the Force only to find it empty. Letting her head lay back down on the pillow, Leia blew out a breath, letting out the tightness seep from her lungs and tried to do the same with the angst in her thoughts as she wondered what had been brought her out of sleep and into waking.

For a while Leia lay still, then just as she began to think about closing her eyes, the room was lit with a faint ghostly red light. This came from the datapad on the dressing table, discarded soon after she had retired to sleep. A red light indicated urgent news and, inwardly Leia cursed herself for not turning that feature off, or at least not having one of the many young base technicians do this for her.

Muttering that “This had better be important”, Leia swung her old legs over the side of the bed and winced as she stood. A dizzy spell threatened to force her to sit back down but she chided her body for being weak and forced it to bend to her will rather than the other way around before scooping up the confounded device.

Having got up, she made her way to the old chair by the dressing table, dropped gratefully into its embrace and, as she had done so many times before, let her legs stretch to let out all the familiar cramps of old age before she started to read.

Along the way through the lists, Leia swore to herself that if this was Threepio passing on droid-intelligence gathering, she would, _this time_ , have him deactivated… It wasn’t that the intelligence gathered wasn’t good – it was that for all that droids were well-placed to gather intel, they were not very good at _discriminating_ between important and mundane intelligence material.

“Anyway,” she drawled, “half the stuff he sends can be heard on the Galactic holo-news by the next day…”

For some time, she watched or read the various reports and communications before concluding that much of the day’s news was good and the missive from Admiral Arano was good indeed. _Very_ good as it happened.

Tapping on the datapad, she called up the base command centre. “Duty officer, this is General Organa Solo. Yes, good morning…yes, I do know what time it is, have this message given to Commander Dameron when he comes on duty.”

Repeating the instruction, just in case it might have been garbled or misunderstood, before returning to her seat, Leia wrapped herself in a warm blanket and slowly went back through the myriad reports with an eye trained by long years in politics and war.

*

It was true.

Kaydel had thought her hosts had merely been trying to talk up one of the planet’s few remaining natural sights in the way a native always boasted of their homeland to foreigners. But, she admitted to herself, from the balcony of this tower, the sight was glorious, as the Sun slowly began to dip beneath the horizon, crenulated by the countless towers of this ecumenopolis[1].

Even the glass of blood-red wine seemed to shimmer, catching the full spectrum of the evening light, spilling different shades ranging from orange-pinks to deep purples over the glittering silver-white shimmersilk material of her _very_ expensive formal gown.

The faintest sound, a sort of ‘ _shim’_ , caught Kaydel’s attention. Across the balcony, strewn with plants and flowers, she saw the entrance door had slid open to admit a single, finely dressed middle-aged man with white close-cropped hair and knew this person to be none other than Lord Thano, Chamberlain to His Divine Majesty, King Theophrastus of Grizmallt.

At that very moment, Kaydel remembered a disbelieving Poe laughing at her explanation…

_“A chamberlain? Someone who fetches drinks? Come on, Kay! Find the Admiral or Chancellor.”_

_“Poe! It doesn’t work like that…in monarchies. It’s all about…” she had waved her hands at that point, “proximity. If I want to talk to someone influential, then I need someone who will be…literally close to the King…”_

_“Why not the Queen or his mistresses then? THAT’s proximity!” he’d said, winking suggestively at Kaydel._

_“That’s my back-up plan!” she had replied and stuck out her tongue at him. Her reward had been to be bundled into a side room, where at the end of a long and very passionate kiss, Poe had pleaded with her._

_“Don’t take any unnecessary risks, Kay. Come back to me.”_

_In answer, she had let him hold her as tightly as he could, taking in his scent and wishing she did not have to leave. Finally, she had to break off their embrace. Pecking him on the lips, she’d looked deep into his dark eyes and smiled bravely._

_“Isn’t that what we’re doing here?”_

Accompanied by two man-servants, the target of her mission leisurely walked across the wide balcony and allowed the servants to seat him at the small round glass table. As he did so, a pair of fluted glasses were laid out by the first servant, while the second servant poured a dark, blood-red wine from a crystal decanter, the strongly scented liquid smoothly filling each of the fluted glasses before they departed at a signal from their master.

Gazing over the rim of her glass, Kaydel took a minute to study her host. His eyes were green, deep-set and as he appraised her in turn, she perceived something of his nature and he something of hers. It was then, she took a closer interest in his attire, dressed as he was in a brocaded robe with a wide sash wound about his waist into which had been woven golden patterns too intricate for the naked eye to follow.

Examining his guest with concealed curiosity, Lord Thano took in the impression created by the artistry of one of the best stylists on the planet. Rare, exotic flowers had been woven into her blonde tresses, all decoratively cascading over white bare shoulders in long, curled ringlets, while the cut of the pale shimmersilk dress had been definitely been designed to enhance the modest charms of her small figure.

He took in the view and, noting how his thoughts kept straying to imaginings of the girl _sans_ dress, concluded that this young woman was possessed of both courage and a keen intelligence, knowing just how to catch a man’s eye and thus win his favours. After all, many persons sought an audience and none would be allowed such an honour without at least taking the trouble to _look_ the part and was precisely why he should not let her efforts sway his judgement.

When he spoke, he therefore adopted a bored persona, as if her mere presence was a bore to be endured only out of politeness and good breeding and began by letting out a long exasperated sigh. “So,” he said, arching his eyebrows with affected disdain, “after spending several days pestering my secretary for this meeting, you have me here, and yet,” he dropped into peevish irritation, “I _am still_ unclear as to your reason for seeking out my person.”

“Oh,” he added after taking a mouthful of the wine, “thank you for the manuscript…it was…unusual.”

Kaydel knew this last part was an act. His eyes had been far too guarded, watching her with great care and inwardly she had resisted being daunted by his silent appraisal of her presence. “I am grateful, my Lord, that you found it so,” she replied cheerfully and jabbed back with a little of how much she really knew about her host. “Your Lordship’s interest in mementos of the late Imperial Court is known in,” she paused, “ _select_ circles,” and thought she might have caught a flicker of surprise in those hooded eyes.

 _Gotcha_ , she thought. He would have his people watching the encounter and her move had just raised the stakes in this hidden game of _sabacc_.

Those eyes narrowed perceptibly and Kaydel was drawn back into the long flight to Grizmalt in which the frequent changes of course, necessary to disguise their point of origin, had given her plenty of time to read deeply into the files on the planet, its monarchy and…this man. _Careful_ , she warned herself, _he’s not to be taken lightly._

The reply was slow in coming and enunciated with care. “Yes. _Select circles_ indeed. I should have expected no less from the child of my old friend… _How_ is Lord Connix, these days?” The question came as something of a surprise to Kaydel and had thrown her off-balance, and before she could recover, Lord Thano asked, “I do hope your mother is not still disappointed in you.”

Thre was the merest suggestion of a smile. “Perhaps your scandal will have faded?”

His quick thrusts, assisted by his intimate knowledge of her family, had gone home and Kaydel could feel her temperature increasing as her cheeks flushed. Like so many of the great families across the Galaxy, the nobility of Dulathia were a clannish lot and her decision to resign her New Republic Navy commission had made strong waves in a small sea. Her parents had not spoken to her since she had joined Leia and her fledgling Resistance movement and most other doors had been shut to her from that time on.

The message was clear. _You’re not welcome here. You’re an embarrassment. Go away…._

 _Well_ , she thought _, I’m not going to play that game_.

Kaydel laced her gloved fingers together on her lap, acting as if she were still the dutiful daughter she been once upon a time.

“My mother and father will have good reasons to be proud of me, my Lord. For one, I am alive – the Fleet was destroyed with the Republic – my decision means the family still has an heir.” Her elder brother had been killed over Hosnian Prime when his ship had exploded in the holocaust.

“And secondly, I am no junior officer within the Rebellion.” She had spoken with real pride in her own achievements and had to resist the sudden urge to wave her real rank at her host.

Over the table, the fading sun cast long shadows and the many small lamps embedded around the balcony has not yet adjusted to the change in the light. Thus, to Kaydel, Lord Thano appeared to be half-hidden in the shadows and a small part of her felt a moment’s unease.

His pretence of boredom had been dropped and when he next spoke, the words were sharp and impatient.

“Indeed,” he began, then paused before continuing “then why are you here, _Captain_?”

“ _Colonel_ ,” she replied too quickly, then silently cursed herself for being stung into revealing her real rank out of mere pique. A half-smirk crossed Lord Thano’s features and, kicking herself mentally, she laid out her cards on the table and began.

“My Lord, I know of your interest in the affairs of the Empire and,” she looked directly at him, “I know that you have contacts with former Imperial officers in the First Order.” Her host was silent, his face a graven mask of black and orange in the weird light of the evening. Taking his silence as permission, she continued, “Many of those former officers come from good families,” _like ours_ , the inference was clear to them both.

“So?” The question threw the next choice of action back to her.

Kaydel gave herself a couple of seconds to drink some of the excellent wine and to screw up her courage. This was it, the moment when this could all fall flat.

“We want to open lines of contact with those former officers.”

For a long while, Kaydel had to endure his disbelieving stare. Eventually he rose and this time he was angry, his voice harsh and metallic.

“Are you mad?” His hands gripped the edge of the table and his voice was dripping with scorn. “Just _what_ do you expect of me? To convey your _democratical_ daydreams to these people?!”

Alarmed, Kaydel too rose from her seat. “No, my Lord, we want to persuade them to _defect!_ ”

“ _Defect?_ ” he had nearly shouted at her this time, his anger palpable and after flinging at her a remark of taking leave of her senses, started back towards the doorway. Swiftly, Kaydel kicked off her shoes to run more quickly and barred his way, pressing her open hands to his chest to make him stop and imploring him to hear her out by telling Lord Thano that the Rebellion already had two possible defectors.

“One is an Admiral,” she exclaimed, sensing the lessening of his anger as that emotion warred with a growing curiosity. “The other is a captain,” she told him and added, “of a Star Destroyer.” Kaydel shut her mouth, mentally biting her tongue. It was no good _burning_ her ‘assets’ and decided she would treat them with him as if both officers had been defectors-in-place. Which was not exactly true but she sensed he would be readier to believe a plausible lie such as this.

“Who are they?” he demanded.

Kaydel shook her head, “You must know I cannot do that.” For a minute, he stood there, coldly seeing through her paltry stratagems, or so Kaydel feared. Then, to her surprise, Lord Thano’s mood changed and now he seemed to find an interest in her once more. He slipped her small hands into his and escorted her back to the abandoned table.

Seated, Kaydel fought to stop her hands from shaking with the effect of the near disaster where the price could have been more than just failure. Escape from this place would, she was sure, prove difficult and, not for the first time, Kaydel suspected that a tower such as this one could prove a death trap to anyone unwise or unfortunate enough to cross its master.

He took up the carafe, still heavy with the dark wine and, after first refilling her glass, did the same for himself, then knocking back the glass, drained it in one smooth motion and signalled for Kaydel to do the same. Reluctantly she did so, though she was encouraged in this by the richness of the wine and felt the bubbling rush of the alcohol as it hit her bloodstream.

Then, commanding her to sit, Lord Thano stepped away from the table, tapping his lips with a finger as he planned his next move until, finally, he turned back and, with a cold, thin smile upon his lips, said to her, “I trust you realise in what a foolish position you have placed yourself?”

Kaydel felt her blood run cold, sensing that the game had changed and that the stakes had been raised – for her – to dangerous levels. Mentally, she began to calculate the distance between her chair and the door.

“If you were to escape from here, how would you do so?” he asked, eyes keen like those a big-game hunter.

 _Fine_ , she decided, _I’ll play your game for now_.

“I was thinking about making a run for the door…but,” she caught the amused expression partially hidden behind his mask, “You have guards watching us – a precaution against…”

“Assassins,” he completed the sentence for her. “Pray continue.”

“Well then,” she said, glancing about, “I could – in theory – try and climb down but…” she spoke quickly to forestall the sensed interruption, “it’s several kilometres to any safe surface and this _is_ your palace, so…” Kaydel paused and let herself smile back at him in an unfriendly manner. “So, I would have to take you hostage…”

He grinned with wolfish delight. “Well done! And the problem with that?”

 _Fuck you_ , she groaned silently and made herself think through the scenario.

“The problem – no, both problems – are that I can only use you as cover in one direction and it would defeat the object of gaining your assistance to our side.”

Pleased with her assessment of the situation, Lord Thano slowly walked around the table to stand in front of Kaydel and, as she looked back up at him, he leaned forward until their faces nearly touched. “What would you do, if I told you that the First Order are on their way here now?”

Kaydel blanched. “ _Here?_ ” she asked, her mind going blank as the shock hit her .

“Indeed.”

Shock gave way to fear, which gave way in turn to anger and Kaydel had to restrain herself from striking out. “If you want me dead, I’ll take you with me!” she hissed.

“ _Very good!”_ , he said, laughing at the threat. “And how would you do it?”

Kaydel got to her feet, bracing her body to go into action, imagining just how she would grab a hold of him _there_ and throw her weight _backwards_ to pivot his body onto the balcony railing and tip him over the side, his death grip taking her with him…and slowly shook her head.

“You’ve already thought of that…” she snarled, frustrated and trapped once more. There would be any number of automated tractor beams to snare them both in mid-air, and when his guards had finished with her, beating out as many secrets as they could, it would a simple matter to throw her back over the side of the tower and turn off the beams.

It would be a long fall and an instant and anonymous death. He knew this and could see how her defiance had softened and ebbed away. So, with only a gentle push against her bare shoulders, Lord Thano thrust Kaydel back down into her seat and pinned her against the soft cushions.

“Since you have been most amusing, I shall tell you more. We’ve been negotiating with the First Order for the last _two_ days.” Kaydel’s skin broke out in a chilly sweat as he chidingly mocked her. “And it strikes me that I could bargain for even better terms. _What a gift you might make!_ ”

Such a fate would be even worse than an anonymous death amidst the clouds. Lord Thano’s guards might beat much out of her but could not spend days or weeks digging for and dragging out every possible secret buried in her mind… A dark vision came to her: Poe’s description of a menacing and evil figure, faceless, implacable and irresistible, tearing out each hidden gem one at a time.

Kaydel wanted to weep, to cry or scream at the unfairness of it all and something in her face must have made this obvious.

“Do you imagine your fate to be so certain?” he said to her and now his words were neither cruel or mocking. The question lit a spark of hope inside her and she dared herself to once again look up into those green eyes. “I have to admit that I am interested in the First Order and knowledge is a powerful tool to me. So, tell me your thesis: Why do you believe that the ex-Imperials would choose to defect? What would motivate them?”

His persona had altered itself once more. Kaydel was still very much aware of his power over her, here and now, but now his manner was more akin that of a priest or a scholar and she found herself wondered just how hidden layers were to be found in this man. She found him at once fascinating and very frightening and, as she did so, memories of her childhood came back to her, memories of her father’s struggles at the court and the dangers of powerful men such as Lord Thano.

The change in Lord Thano had calmed Kaydel and, now that she was cool-headed once more, her thoughts and memories flowed together while she smoothed out her skirts where the shimmersilk had been disordered by the evening and threatened to form unsightly creases.

Her companion did not press her for he had taken note once more of his growing interest and pleasure, both in her figure and the courage she shown during the evening, and as Kaydel began to explain her ideas on the First Order, she could feel the heat of his eyes on her reddened lips.


End file.
